Best I Am
by Iced Blood
Summary: Now complete as of its 56th installment. A series of misadventures starring the faces of the Tenth Division, Hitsugaya Toushirou and Matsumoto Rangiku. Their relationship started the same way any number of relationships start: awkwardly. But things, as they say, change. Nowhere is that truer than here. HitsuMatsu.
1. Luck of the Draw

"Oi, Hitsugaya-kun. Hi, there."

Hitsugaya Toushirou turned, raising a thin white eyebrow at Kyouraku Shunsui. The captain of the Eighth Division was holding a saucer of sake in his hand, as was usual with him, and it was clear to the boy genius that he was well on his way to completely sloshed. His bearded face was flushed, his brown eyes half-lidded and clouded, and he swayed slightly on the stool he sat on.

"Kyouraku," Hitsugaya said, crossing his arms.

"C'mere, Hitsugaya-kun, c'mere. Have a drink, won't you?"

"I'd rather not," Hitsugaya replied coldly, deciding to let the fact that he was too young to drink slide. The man was drunk, for one thing, and wouldn't listen to Hitsugaya even if he brought it up, and for another...no one was better than Kyouraku Shunsui at making up excuses.

"Well, then, sit down here and let's have us a little chat, hm? You need to loosen up more, Hitsugaya-kun. You're young; you shouldn't spend all your time working."

Hitsugaya didn't bother mentioning that Kyouraku _never _did any work, and so was not exactly the best person to be telling him how to do his job, but only because he didn't feel like listening to a alcohol-induced monologue about how little credit he was given by his fellows and how he did his best and by the way, Yama-jii was pleased enough with him to keep him instated as a captain, so he had to be doing _something _right.

Kyouraku didn't complain on a regular basis, of course; he was as laid back as you could get, and very little bothered him. But sometimes, after five or six bottles of liquid motivation, he ended up in a very emotional mood...

...And it looked like he was in just such a mood tonight.

Having heard numerous horror stories from Nanao about how often Kyouraku _cried _when he was like this, Hitsugaya decided it was the lesser of two evils to do as asked and sit down to have a "chat."

"You know, Hitsugaya-kun, you're lucky."

Hitsugaya looked over at Kyouraku and raised an eyebrow again. "...Oh?"

"Of course, of course! Don't you know how lucky you are?"

He didn't. Not really. How lucky was he to have request forms and dismissals and contracts and mission briefings and new regulations and God knew what else flung at him every morning to look over and sign and send off to the proper destination before a meeting with the rest of the captains where he would be mocked for his height and ignored because he was "just a child" and didn't understand how things _really _worked?

Well...okay, so he had proven that last assumption to be false already, but it was still annoying!

"...Not really," he finally replied.

Kyouraku's eyes widened slightly. "Really...? Oh, come now, Hitsugaya-kun, how can you say that? Don't you know how many people are jealous of you?"

Jealous? Yeah, right.

"No."

The drunken captain blinked at him. "...Why, you have the most beautiful, ravishing vice-captain in the entire Gotei 13, Hitsugaya-kun! How can you say you _don't know _how lucky you are when you get to see _that _vision of loveliness every day?"

...Oh. _That._

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. Of course a skirt-chaser like Kyouraku would think having a vice-captain like Matsumoto Rangiku was a dream come true. She was beautiful, yes, and charismatic, and she loved to have a drink with a friend, and she had enormous...

...Whatever.

The fact was, everyone who thought he was _lucky _to have Matsumoto as his second-in-command didn't realize what a _hassle _it was. Honestly, all the woman ever did was slack off and hide her share of the paperwork under her favorite couch! How often had he walked in on her napping during work hours? How often had he had to pick up _her _slack because she'd been out too late and couldn't keep her eyes open? How often had he been forced to pull all-nighters because _she _was too sick (hung-over) to get out of bed?

Honestly...she was like a child.

Lucky? Yeah, whatever.

"You don't look very convinced, Hitsugaya-kun," Kyouraku noted with a slight frown.

"Hnh," Hitsugaya grunted.

An arm was suddenly draped over his shoulder, and Kyouraku's bearded face was suddenly inches from his own. "You'll understand when you get a bit older, Hitsugaya-kun," he whispered with a conspiratorial grin.

Hitsugaya wrinkled his nose at the painfully poignant smell of alcohol on the man's breath. "...Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Kyouraku leaned back to a normal sitting position, swaying slightly as he did. "...Are you _sure _you don't want to share a drink with me, Hitsugaya-kun? Drinking's always more fun with a friend."

_Who said I was your _friend, _Kyouraku? _Hitsugaya thought bitterly.

"...No. I, uh...have to go."

"Tch...back to work? Of course, of course...Hitsugaya-kun is Hitsugaya-kun, after all...fine, fine. Go. Go back to Rangiku-chan. I'll just sit here and...wait. Nanao-chan will be here soon...ah, my sweet Nanao-chan...when will you finally understand...?"

Taking the opportunity before it was lost, Hitsugaya left.

He walked quickly to his headquarters, the smell of sake still overwhelming his senses.

No surprise, Matsumoto was snoozing contentedly on the couch, and there was a mountain of paper on his desk waiting to be done. Hitsugaya sighed, shaking his head, and strode over to his chair. Best to get started now; the sooner he started, the sooner it would be over with.

There was a piping hot mug of tea waiting for him.

Hitsugaya looked at the drink for a long moment before picking it up and taking a small sip. As the hot, soothing, delicious liquid slid down his throat, he let out a sigh. The slightest of smiles crossed his lips as he picked up a pen.

He glanced at the mug. "HITSUGAYA-TAICHOU" was emblazoned in bright blue lettering across the otherwise white surface. Matsumoto had given it to him the year before on a whim, stating simply that, "I thought you would like it."

Although he hadn't admitted it aloud, he did like it.

How many other captains received gifts for no reason? How many other captains could look forward to always having a hot drink on long nights, without fail? How many other captains had such a friendly relationship with their vice-captains?

...He guessed he _was _pretty lucky, after all.


	2. Photographs

"Awww...taichou is so _cuuuute!"_

_Damn you, Hinamori...damn you..._

Hitsugaya sat at his desk, hiding behind a stack of paper, as his childhood "friend" ruined his image. Honestly, he didn't know _why _he had let her in; he should have known it would be bad. When Hinamori Momo had _that _sort of smile on her face...it _never _ended well.

Matsumoto continued to squeal over the photographs Hinamori had found the night before. Hitsugaya wondered why he hadn't _burned _them when they'd first been taken...he hadn't _asked _her to photograph him, and he _certainly _hadn't asked her to _keep _the damnable things.

And to show them to Matsumoto?

Who the hell did she think she was!

Hinamori giggled. "Look here, Matsumoto-san! This one! It's from his birthday!"

Another ear-shattering squeal of delight.

Hitsugaya wished he could melt into his desk and just disappear. This day was turning out to be the _worst _day ever...

"And this one! Shiro-chan tried to make a cake for me!"

"Oh, my _God! _How _adorable!"_

Hitsugaya wished he knew who had invented the camera...so he could strangle the bastard. He made a point to find out later. He'd add whoever it was to his personal "I WISH YOU DEAD" list...he was reasonably sure the inventor of the camera already _was _dead...but who cared? He was probably _somewhere _in Soul Society, then, right?

An evil smirk rose on his lips as he envisioned "bumping" into the guy someday...purely on "accident."

"Here he is eating some watermelon!"

"AAAHH! I _must _have a copy of that one! Oh, _look at that!"_

_Hmmm...how difficult would it be to send Matsumoto to another division...?_

But then...an even _more _evil idea popped into his head, and he grinned.

It was _not _a nice grin.

He stood up and glanced down at Matsumoto and Hinamori sitting on the floor.

Hitsugaya pushed all the paperwork on his desk down onto their heads.

Matsumoto shrieked in surprise and Hinamori squawked his name.

"...Here, Matsumoto. You can do this. I have to go out and speak to Yamamoto-soutaichou about something."

He didn't...but he figured saying that would help "motivate" his usually lazy vice-captain.

"Ne, Hinamori-chan...think you could help me organize all this?"

Of course Hinamori wouldn't refuse...that was half the reason Hitsugaya had done it.

_Good...now they _both _can suffer._

As he sauntered out of his office, glancing around to find a nice tree where _he _could take a nap for once, Hitsugaya smirked smugly as he heard the two vice-captains struggling to find out which forms went where.

_How _cute _am I now, huh?_

_

* * *

Substantially shorter than the first one, but ten times funnier (in my opinion). This image just wouldn't leave my head, so I decided to share it with you. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Ja ne, everyone. 'Til next time.  
_


	3. Entitled to a Defense

"Ne, Hitsugaya-taichou, why you always wear your zanpakutou on yer back?"

Hitsugaya didn't bother looking at Madarame Ikkaku as he passed, not really wanting to answer the question; it was stupid, anyway. Who cared where he decided to carry his sword? What if he _liked _it on his back, as opposed to his waist, huh?

Why did people ask him that question all the time?

"Why do _you _wear makeup?" Matsumoto asked flippantly, walking alongside her captain.

Ikkaku shot to his feet. "Hey! It ain't makeup!" he snapped indignantly, wiping at the red marks under his eyes. Catching Matsumoto's expression, he scowled. "It _ain't!"_

"Hmmm..." Matsumoto murmured, continuing to walk.

"Oh, don't worry," Ayasegawa Yumichika said from behind them. "It's okay if you wear makeup. It really adds to your appearance, Ikkaku. Very nice."

_"It ain't makeup, you fruitcake!"_

"Hey, hey! Calm down, Ikkaku. Yell too loud and you'll wake up Fukutaichou. You don't _really _want to deal with her when she's cranky, do you?"

Ikkaku was suddenly silent.

Hitsugaya shuddered in silent sympathy. Kusajishi Yachiru was bad enough when she was well-rested...tired, she was a _nightmare._

His head ached again just _thinking _about the time he'd been caught in the crossfire

"Ne, Ikkaku, I'll bet Hitsugaya-taichou wears his zanpakutou on his back because, if he wore it at his side, it would drag on the ground!"

Hitsugaya stopped.

Ikkaku burst out laughing. "Yeah, huh! He's so short it'd--"

"...Did you _say _something, cue-ball?"

Flinching slightly in surprise, Hitsugaya turned to see Matsumoto leaning down toward Ikkaku's upturned face. Normally, such a situation would be intoxicating for the bald shinigami; after all, Matsumoto's...assets were very, _very _close to him.

But the ice-cold glare on her face made any pleasure vanish.

"Uh...u-uh...n-n-nothing. Nothing, ma'am," Ikkaku stammered, face going white.

"I _thought _so..."

Matsumoto stomped back to Hitsugaya with her hands on her hips.

"Hnh...how unsightly...letting his fukutaichou defend him like that..."

"_What _was that, pretty boy!"

"Um...n-nothing. Nothing at all!"

Matsumoto smirked.

As Hitsugaya continued walking toward his headquarters, he smirked as well.

So what if he let his vice-captain defend him?

It worked, didn't it?

* * *

_...Is itjust me or is Hitsugaya manipulative?_  



	4. Just a Bite

"Oh, c'mon, Taichou, it won't _kill _you!"

"I said no, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya snapped, turning his head away. "I don't _want _any."

Matsumoto grinned that foolish grin of hers and held out her spoon. "Come _ooon..._just _one _bite? You'll _love _it, I promise!"

"No."

"You're no _fun_, Taichou. C'mon, you need to loosen up! Try new things! That's the fun of it all! C'mon, just _one bite _and I _promise _I'll leave you alone."

He doubted that; Matsumoto _always _seemed to find _some _way to annoy him no matter _what _they were doing. If he gave in _this _time, it would only encourage her. He crossed his arms and turned away.

Kurosaki Karin was sitting nearby, and she glared at him. "Just do it. Pick your battles, Hitsugaya."

"I didn't ask for your input," Hitsugaya snarled, "and it's Hitsugaya-_taichou!"_

"She's like the old man; sometimes it's less of a headache just to do it and get it over with."

"Don't compare Matsumoto to your father, Kurosaki. He's just eccentric; Matsumoto is completely insane."

"Pop's at _least _as psycho as she is, and twice the pervert," Kurosaki Ichigo said. "C'mon; Rukia said she wanted to meet us at Urahara's in half an hour, so just _do _it so we can leave."

"No."

"Taichou, it's _melting!" _Matsumoto whined. "Don't be so uptight! It's _goooood..._"

"Would you _clam up_, Matsumoto! I don't _want it!"_

Unfortunately, while yelling at his vice-captain, Hitsugaya had opened his mouth enough to allow her to shove the spoon into it, and he had no choice but to swallow. Choking as he pushed Matsumoto away, Hitsugaya leapt off the stool he had been sitting on and stomped toward the door.

Okay...fine. So maybe this ice cream stuff wasn't so bad after all.

But damned if he'd let _her _know that!

...Crazy old witch.

* * *

_I think Matsumoto is manipulative, too._  



	5. Best I Am

To _liven up the office, _she said, to _banish all that loathsome silence_, she said, to _add a little color to the job_, she said.

Hitsugaya just thought she wanted another excuse to ignore her work.

He tended to ignore the cacophony Matsumoto called "music" when she turned on the stereo she'd brought back from the living world. He sometimes even put in earplugs when she decided to sing along.

It was a matter of principle. Hitsugaya didn't think music was proper in the workplace, so he didn't indulge in it, even when Matsumoto suggested he find something _he _liked if all her choices were so bad.

So he didn't mention anything when he found himself actually _listening _to the song that was currently playing. He didn't dare, because after all his complaining...he hated to admit that maybe, just maybe, Matsumoto had had a good idea.

She was actually doing her paperwork this time (there was a first time for everything, as the saying went), so she wasn't paying attention to him. So, he decided to let his mind wander. After how often _she _had done it, he deserved a chance, too...right?

* * *

It was his first day after being promoted to captain of the Tenth Division. He didn't deny that he was nervous; _of course _he was nervous. Sure, he'd risen to the top of his classes as an honest-to-God prodigy, the best student to come along in centuries, but still...that didn't mean he was actually _prepared _for the job, even if they said he was _ready _for it.

He would be meeting his vice-captain today, someone named Matsumoto Rangiku. She had been the vice-captain under Hitsugaya's predecessor, and so she had much more experience than he.

But still...he was her captain now, and that meant he had to provide a good example. That's what everyone told him: _Captains provide an example for their subordinates. _And he took that seriously.

So he sat nervously at his empty desk, hands clasped in his lap, waiting for Matsumoto to arrive, wondering if she would mock him for his height like so many of his classmates had.

He hoped not.

"...A new captain, ain't that right?"

"Yeah. Haven't heard anything about him yet...just his name. Hitsugaya Toushirou. Probably just another old fogey who'll wanna pretend I'm his girlfriend or something. I swear, why are _all _the higher-ups perverted old men?"

"Dunno, Matsu. Well, good luck."

"Yeah..."

Hitsugaya stood up, adjusting his new captain's cloak, as Matsumoto Rangiku opened the door. First impressions were always important.

When she closed the door behind her, Matsumoto turned to face her new captain.

They stared at each other.

_...My..._God... Hitsugaya thought.

Matsumoto Rangiku was most definitely _not _what he had expected. She was tall, with luxurious blonde hair and striking gray eyes, and the biggest chest Hitsugaya had ever seen. She was young, older than he but still young, and had he been older he might have been shocked and delighted by how beautiful she was...as he was, he could only be intimidated by her gigantic breasts.

He swallowed, hands flat at his sides. "Uh...Matsumoto Rangiku?"

She nodded dumbly. "Y-Yes...uh...Hitsugaya Toushirou?"

Hitsugaya nodded. "Yes."

She stood there for a moment, completely unreadable.

And then...

"Awww, what a _cutie-pie!"_

Before he even had a chance to comprehend what she'd said, he was suddenly caught up in a tight, smothering hug that threatened to steal the air from his lungs. He struggled to get out of her grip, hitting her back with his fists.

"M...M-Matsumoto...let...me..._go!"_

When she finally did, her face was glowing with joy. "It's wonderful to meet you, Hitsugaya-chan! Aren't you just the _sweetest thing!"_

"...Matsumoto...please don't call me 'Hitsugaya-chan.'"

She laughed at his scowl. "Oh, oh, of course. Captain's a captain's a captain, huh? Always hung up on formalities. My apologies, Hitsugaya-taichou, it won't happen again. Say...how old _are _you, anyway? You've got the _hair _of an old fogey, but you certainly _aren't _one."

He ignored the comment on his hair. "...I'm not sure."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Well, you can't be any older than twelve, honestly...look at you! So cute! I think I have the cutest little taichou ever in the entire Gotei 13!"

Hitsugaya twitched, scowl deepening.

"...Matsumoto...don't call me _cute."_

_Captains set an example for their subordinates... _he thought. _In that case...I'm going to have to teach this woman proper respect for her superiors..._

He had a feeling he was going to have a hell of a time setting an example for _her._

* * *

He'd been right that day...he certainly _had _had a time trying to teach Matsumoto respect. She _still _acted like a child more often than not, years after that first meeting. Putting off work, making paper airplanes, whistling as she painted her nails when she _should _have been listening to him, asking him, "What do you think of this color, Taichou?" like he actually _cared_...honestly, _she _was the older one. Why was _he _the babysitter?

But...he had to admit, part of him was glad for her antics. Although it annoyed him, it certainly made things interesting. He was hardly ever _bored _anymore, something he'd been plagued with constantly as a child. Her immaturity often took his mind off the myriad of things he had to do, and on the rare occasions that she actually _did _help out instead of napping on the couch, he felt like maybe he'd finally done something right.

She reminded him all too constantly why he had to do his absolute best.

Matsumoto needed a role model.

So lost in thought was he that he didn't notice Matsumoto glance over at him and smile that certain little smile that so many men fawned over, that certain little smile that melted most men's hearts.

She looked back at the form she was filling out.

**Please fill out any final comments regarding the performance of the captain of your division.**

Smiling again, she wrote a short sentence that encompassed everything.

_He's more wonderful than I ever could have hoped for._

* * *

_1. These lyrics are from "Best I Am," by Flaw._

_For anyone wondering where the title for this fic came from...here you go. A mixture of humor and fluff with some lyrics thrown in because I felt like it. Hope you enjoyed it, everyone. Ja ne. _


	6. Cold

It was cold.

That was the only thing he knew. It was cold. Too cold.

"Mommy!" he cried, wishing she would come find him and make the cold go away. Why was it so cold? What was this white stuff that stuck to his skin? How come they were here? Where was Mommy? Where was Daddy? Why didn't they make the cold go away?

"Mommy! Daddy!"

He crawled over the white stuff, looking around, trying to find them, wondering why they wouldn't answer him. Couldn't they hear him? Had they gone deaf, like Grandpa? Did the cold make them deaf? Would he go deaf, too?

The wind blew suddenly, and the scarf Mommy had made special for him flew away. He tried to catch it, but he couldn't. It was too far away. Like Mommy and Daddy...it was gone. It went away. And now he was even colder.

"Mommy! _Mommy! MOMMY!"_

_

* * *

_

Hitsugaya suddenly snapped his head up from his desk, breathing harshly. He reached up and felt his face, feeling the remnants of the phantom snow, and the wetness of the tears flowing from his eyes. Shuddering, he lowered his head to the desk again, trying to gain control of himself.

He was a captain. He couldn't let some nightmare get the better of him. He had to be strong. That's what captains were...if nothing else, they were strong. None of the other captains would have let such a frivolous thing affect them so much. He wasn't a child. He'd given up his childhood when he'd donned his captain's cloak. He was strong. He _was._

...But no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn't hold the tears back this time. It was the first time in months he'd had that nightmare, but that had done nothing to its poignancy.

Remembering his own death always affected him.

Once again he was a helpless child, crawling around in a blizzard in the middle of nowhere. Once again he was lost, searching for his parents, frantically crawling in circles as he began to panic.

Silent sobs wracked his thin frame as he clenched his fists, his heart aching with loneliness, with fear and desperation and confusion. He strained to keep it inside, but every once in a while a moan would wrestle its way from his lips as he shook uncontrollably.

"Taichou?"

He couldn't speak.

"Hitsugaya-taichou? Hey!"

He couldn't breathe.

"Oh, my God! Taichou! Taichou, what's wrong?"

A long, agonizing cry tore out of his throat.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and without thinking he latched onto the owner, arms wrapping desperately around his vice-captain's waist as he continued to cry.

Matsumoto's arms embraced him gently, stroking back his hair. "Shhh...okay, okay...come on, Hitsugaya-taichou, it's all right...shhh..."

He buried his face in the soft folds of her uniform. "M...Matsumoto..." he sobbed.

"Shhh...it's okay, Taichou...go ahead and cry...I'm here..."

Hitsugaya had never been happier to have her by his side. _She _never asked questions. _She _never berated him for his moments of weakness. She was special...someone who as always there, always beside him...someone who would never let him go.

He wasn't alone.

And he was warm.

So, so warm...

* * *

_After so much humor, I decided to go in a different direction. A bit of HitsuMatsu...sort of. Of course, if you asked him, she was just being a good vice-captain, calming him down after a nightmare. But...we know better, don't we? Anyway, as angst-ish as this one was, I hope you enjoyed it. Ja ne._  



	7. Secrets

Matsumoto knew a few things that others didn't.

And she felt lucky to know those few things. After all, having secrets meant you were special; knowing something no one else did made you feel...good.

She knew that Hitsugaya-taichou hated fish.

She knew that he drank about a gallon of milk a day, and he thought he was sly about it. But she knew.

She knew that the left side of his neck was extremely ticklish. And it was very, _very _fun to use a stray feather from a pillow on the couch or the corner of a sheet of paper to point out the fact that she did.

She knew that he really _did _like the name "Shiro-chan" because she had used it numerous times (every day she thanked Hinamori for telling her about that pet name) and all he ever did was roll his eyes (and blush a little).

She knew that he had no clue in hell how to do his own laundry.

She knew that he would rather face an army of Menos Grandes than go with her when she decided to go drinking with Kyouraku Shunsui.

She knew that Gin gave him nightmares...to be fair, though, that constant grin made even _her _shiver on occasion.

She knew that he liked to play the violin.

But perhaps the most treasured little secret she had about her Hitsugaya-taichou was that she, and _only _she, knew just how absolutely adorable he looked curled up under a blanket cuddling with a teddy bear.

She also knew how cute it was to listen to him not only try to deny he even _had _the bear, but to hear him try to say he _hadn't _named it Rangiku.

"Oh? Then, why did you keep saying that in your sleep, Taichou?"

"I...uh...I, uh..."

She knew the real answer.

"...I have paperwork to finish."

Yep.

Matsumoto knew quite a few things no one else did. And the fun part about that was, Hitsugaya-taichou _knew _that she knew.

Why else would he let her take so many naps?

* * *

_Hmmm...I tried my hand at a proper HitsuMatsu (#6 doesn't really count, does it?), but I'm not too good with romance, so I just went with lighthearted humor. It's so easy to do that with these two, after all. Ja ne, all. 'Til next time._  



	8. Shopping

"What are we _doing _here, Matsumoto?"

"We're _shopping, _of course, Ta--uh, Toushirou-kun. Now hush up and have fun, will you?"

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and straightened his tie. "Who said I wanted to go shopping? I'd rather go back to sleep. Why did you wake me up so early, anyway?"

Matsumoto sighed. "_Because_...if I hadn't we'd have been caught in the mid-day rush. You complain too much, Toushirou-kun."

"...I hate you calling me that."

"Well, if I call you 'taichou,' it'll raise suspicions. You complain too much."

"I'm not complaining; I just hate this."

"That's complaining."

Hitsugaya scowled at her. "Just get on with your _shopping_, already."

Matsumoto smirked smugly at her victory, looking around. "Hmmm...where could I get some new clothes...? Ooh! There we go!"

She pulled him into a clothing store, nearly tearing his arm off.

Nearly two hours later, they left, and Hitsugaya felt as though he'd just gone through boot camp. Sighing, he stretched and winced as his back cracked. "...Can we _go _now?"

"Oh, come on!" Matsumoto said. "You know you like your new scarf, so stop whining!"

He said nothing.

"Now...where to next...? Oh...lookee there..._Toooooooushirou-kuuuuun_...look! There's a bookstore."

His eyes snapped up. "Huh?"

Matsumoto grinned. "Let's go see."

She didn't comment on the fact that he practically sprinted into the store.

She also didn't say anything when the first place he went to was the manga section (although she did sigh), where he instantly started scanning the titles with the critical eye of a master jeweler inspecting a diamond.

"...I thought you didn't _want _to go shopping," she murmured finally, unable to keep silent any longer.

Hitsugaya didn't respond.

Finally, after discovering the price of one of the slim books and doing some quick math in his head, he selected about twenty volumes and made his way to the front of the store.

Matsumoto stood behind her captain, chuckling at how childlike he could be sometimes. His eyes practically glowed as he looked at the books that would soon be his.

The cashier looked at them. "...You gonna make your poor mother buy _all _those for you, kid?"

Matsumoto stiffened.

"Uh...she's, uh...not my mother," Hitsugaya said. "And I'm buying them myself."

Flinching at the vice-captain's glare, the lanky young man was silent as he rang up Hitsugaya's purchase. After handing him two bags, he waved goodbye and pointedly kept his gaze away form the fuming Matsumoto.

"That little...that _sniveling _little _jerk!" _she snarled in the parking lot as they made their way to the bus stop. She had no desire to shop anymore. That _puke _had thought she was...was...

She wasn't _that _old, damn it!

"Hey, it could've been worse," Hitsugaya murmured.

"Huh?"

"If he'd known how old you really are, he would have called you my _grandmother."_

_...That was it!_

"Give me that scarf back!" she howled as she chased after her laughing captain. "You don't deserve it anymore! I am _not _your _grandmother!"_

"You're right! Who'd ever want to have a kid with _you?"_

"_WHY, YOU LITTLE...!"_

Hitsugaya laughed all the way back to Urahara's shop.

* * *

_What is it about these two that makes it so easy to write humor? Sigh...oh, well. I like humor. Hopefully you guys do, too. Ja ne._  



	9. An Exchange

"Are you still reading, Taichou?"

"Yes."

"Do you plan on stopping any time today?"

"No."

"Are we going to go patrolling today?"

"No."

"Shouldn't we?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What are you reading?"

"Book."

"Does it have a title?"

"No."

"There _has _to be a title, Taichou!"

"Oh."

"So what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Taichou!"

"What?"

"Look! It's called _Battle Royale _(1). It says so right there!"

"Oh."

"Are you even going to _look _at me?"

"No."

"Is that thing _so _interesting?"

"Yes."

"C'mon! Yamamoto-soutaichou gave us orders to patrol every day!"

"He's not here."

"...Huh. I like the way you think, Taichou."

"Yes."

"Well, then, I'm going to go brush my hair."

"Fine."

"Okay, then."

"Yes."

* * *

_1. "Battle Royale" is a 15-volume manga series drawn by Masayuki Taguchi based on the novel of the same name by Koushun Takami._

_A follow-up to #8 because I like this style. All-dialogue scenes are fun to me because it forces me to portray the characters solely through their voices. Obviously, since this entire series is centered around Hitsugaya and Matsumoto, however, I suppose it isn't too hard to guess who's speaking._

_Yes, yes, I know Hitsugaya-taichou is very work-oriented and he probably wouldn't shirk his duties like this, but...well, if you've read Battle Royale, you understand that it sucks you in and doesn't let go. So blame the manga. _


	10. Betrayal

**_This one contains spoilers for the end of the Soul Society Arc, so only read it if you've read/watched past that or don't mind missing out on the surprise...like I did. It's my fault for reading articles on the subject before finishing. So...don't let me do the same thing. Unless, like I said, you don't care._**

* * *

Matsumoto Rangiku wasn't very good at comforting people.

She just didn't know what to say when someone, especially someone she cared about, was hurt. She'd freeze up, and everything she _wanted _to say would get locked up in her throat. People had begun to think she was insensitive.

She wasn't.

It was just that, being a shinigami was a tough job, and she, being a woman in a place dominated by men (after all, of the thirteen captains of the Gotei 13, only two were women, and while nearly _half_ the vice-captains were, it really didn't help any), had had to learn early on to hide her emotions, to remain cold and distant, so as not to appear weak. After a while, this had made it extremely difficult to show emotion even when she wanted to.

And she desperately wanted to as she saw Hitsugaya walk slowly out of the room after speaking to Hinamori Momo for the first time since Aizen Sousuke's betrayal. Matsumoto hadn't heard the entire conversation, but she'd heard quite a bit of it, and knew that her captain had to be affected.

Aizen had betrayed Soul Society, had tried (and very, _very _nearly succeeded) to kill both Hinamori _and _Hitsugaya, and still the Fifth Division vice-captain remained loyal, asking her childhood friend to "save" the man she idolized, even though there was nothing to save, placing an impossible burden on his young shoulders.

Hitsugaya had risked his life on several occasions to help Hinamori, had worried himself sick over her, had _cried _at her bedside when she had been unconscious, and still she had eyes for none but her beloved Aizen-taichou.

She had raised her zanpakutou against a friend, a dear friend who loved her deeply, because of that traitorous man, and Matsumoto hated her for that. She hated Hinamori Momo with a passion that surprised her, and she actually wished the Fourth Division _hadn't _been able to save her. It would have been better that way.

Hitsugaya would have been left with a beautiful memory, not a hopeless obligation to a madwoman.

Of course, Matsumoto didn't say anything to her captain about this, because like it or not, Hitsugaya still loved his Bed-Wetter Momo, even if _she_ didn't care one bit about him.

"Matsumoto?"

"Huh?" Matsumoto looked down, surprised, at her captain.

"You're scowling. What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Taichou. Nothing."

He rolled his eyes, sighed, and continued walking.

Perhaps sometimes, Matsumoto thought, being able to hide one's emotions was a blessing.


	11. Devotion

_Sorry, for both the hiatus and for the subject matter of this one. I had to struggle to get this one out, and I ended up going with a similar theme as #10. Not the most uplifting, I know. I guess I've just been simmering on how much Hinamori has been disappointing me lately. She used to be nice...what happened? Anyway...hopefully I won't have such a long break between updates again._

* * *

He wondered if Aizen knew how damned lucky he was. 

He wondered if Aizen understood just how rare the total adoration and devotion Hinamori had for him was. He didn't know anyone else who tried so hard to please her superior. Hinamori would, without a thought, die for her captain. Anything he asked, anything at all, she would do.

If he asked her to draw her zanpakutou and slide it across her own throat, she would. And her final thought before dying would be to wonder if her blood was red enough for him.

Hitsugaya shivered, wondering just where _that _particular thought had come from, but knowing just the same that it was true. Hinamori was devoted mind, body, and soul to Aizen Sousuke. It was a bit unnerving, honestly. A few of the other officers of the Gotei 13 thought it was adorable, a few thought it was pathetic, some even considered it perfectly normal.

It wasn't normal; it wasn't adorable; it wasn't pathetic.

Hitsugaya didn't know _what _it was, but he _did _know what he felt whenever he was reminded of it.

Jealous.

He knew it was childish, and he never admitted it aloud, but he was fiercely jealous of the Fifth Division captain. Hinamori had once gone to _him _whenever she had free time. She had once gone to _him _when she needed to talk about something. She had once gone to _him _when she'd had a nightmare and needed the reassurance of a friend.

...Now he'd been replaced.

He really didn't blame Hinamori for loving her captain as much as she did. Aizen was everything anyone expected in a captain. He was brilliant, kind, just, patient, and so strong that he almost never needed to draw steel to deal with Hollows. He was, in a word, perfect.

How could he hope to stand against _that?_

Oh, sure, he'd made captain. He was called a prodigy, his division respected him, several of the other captains admired him. Hitsugaya had quite the reputation himself...but he wasn't perfect.

Hinamori had been proud, of course, when he'd first donned his captain's cloak, but there was a hint of condescension in her praise, as if she had been thinking, _Aw, how cute. Shiro-chan's trying to be a captain. He's nothing like my Aizen-taichou, though. He's a _real _captain._

Hitsugaya had once, long ago, been the most important person in Hinamori Momo's life.

And perhaps, if he had recognized and appreciated that, he might still be. But...he'd pushed her away, and she had found someone else to take up her entire existence.

Hitsugaya really had no one to blame but himself.

But he still hoped Aizen realized how lucky he was.

The captain's office of the Tenth Division was usually quiet, and this day was no exception...which was a good thing because that meant no one suspected anything was amiss. No one caught the fact that Hitsugaya was in a dark mood.

Well...one person did.

Matsumoto-fukutaichou looked up from her paperwork and caught sight of the expression on her captain's face. She instantly knew what he was thinking about, and she frowned.

_I need to talk to Hinamori-chan. Maybe if she realizes how much she's neglecting him she'll start finding time for him. _

It was a long shot, of course. Who knew what assignment Aizen-taichou had for her _this _week? She likely wouldn't have time to come visit with old friends. But Matsumoto had to try.

Hinamori was the only one who could snap Hitsugaya out of this mood whenever he slipped into it.

She sighed.

Matsumoto really didn't think Hinamori deserved the affection Hitsugaya had for her. It just didn't make sense...at least not to her.

But she had to do it. She had to speak to Hinamori, as much as she really didn't want to.

It was for her captain.

That was one of the only areas where Matsumoto agreed with Hinamori.

Anything for her captain.


	12. An Embarrassing Situation

He tried to work his way into forgetting the...incident the previous night. Oh, sure, he'd hidden everything that needed to be hidden immediately after she had opened the door, but let's face it.

People always knew you were "up to something" when you suddenly jumped up in your chair and threw the folds of your robes around yourself, short of breath and looking around like you'd been caught stealing something.

Never mind the stain on his cloak that would _never_ come out now.

Probably the only person who wouldn't bother to do anything in a situation like that was Ichimaru...and he hadn't. One time Hitsugaya had accidentally walked into the man's office to see him...well, doing something that was obviously _not_ work, something that you _really _shouldn't do anywhere but your own home, and he'd just grinned that insufferable grin of his and said, "Hiya, 'Gaya."

Hitsugaya had been looking for his vice-captain, but he promptly forgot about that and slammed the door closed, running off as quickly as he could to find Kyouraku, because she was probably with him.

He even thought about joining them for a drink to get the image of Ichimaru Gin's frighteningly pale legs out of his mind. Honestly, it had _not_ been necessary for him to take off his pants!

The minute Hitsugaya had thought about that, he'd decided that he really didn't care about the legal drinking age. He was a _captain, _damn it, and...well, this was a special circumstance.

He really should have learned his lesson after walking in on the Third Division captain, but he hadn't.

Hitsugaya kept his mind on his paperwork, and he pointedly refused to look up at Matsumoto when she walked into the room. He didn't see the knowing, cocky smirk on her face.

This was why Matsumoto loved dealing with her captain. It was so _vastly_ entertaining.

The smirk stayed on her face the entire day.

She really didn't know what was so embarrassing about spilling ink on your shirt. Did he just not want anyone to know he'd been drawing on his arm when the pen he'd brought back from the living world had exploded? It was no big deal, really. It wasn't like she'd _report_ him or something. But still...seeing him so embarrassed was _such fun._

...What did _you_ think he'd been doing?

Tch. Perverts.

* * *

_I have a weird sense of humor. Oh, well. It worked in my head. Why do I love torturing my favorite characters so much? Poor Hitsugaya-taichou...eh. I'll get over it, I'm sure. I've done worse to other characters, anyway. Hope you enjoyed this latest glimpse at my madness. Ja ne._  



	13. Catharsis

The living world was a surprising place. Hitsugaya found that, actually, he rather liked it. Sure, it was a bit...surreal, perhaps, to think that he had once lived here, that _death_ had brought him to Soul Society (unlike that lucky bastard, Ichigo, who had the best of both worlds), but he'd learned quickly to deal with feelings like that.

Hitsugaya just ignored it. What did it matter now?

One of the things that intoxicated the boy captain about the living world was the technology that seemed to spring up from every corner of the globe (not that globes _had_ corners, of course). Hitsugaya was close to two centuries old, but he had never even _dreamed_ of something like the videogames Ichigo had shown him (to get Hitsugaya away from him; he didn't see what was so annoying about himself, but Ichigo was annoyed by everybody...honestly, he'd only meant to _help_ by pointing out the flaws in the young shinigami's swordsmanship).

After only a day or two, he was addicted.

Seriously, what self-respecting young man could actually _pass up _a way to kill and maim and shoot and kick and choke and blow up as many people as you wanted without getting arrested or being bothered by stupid, troublesome emotions? It was like a _dream!_

Sure, Matsumoto called him immature, and Karin was starting to kick him on a regular basis because he wouldn't give up the TV, but who cared?

They just didn't understand.

Videogames weren't a childish pastime.

They were a catharsis, a way to keep him from strangling Madarame Ikkaku.

And nobody wanted any Ikkaku-strangling going on.

He was doing them a _service!_

But oh, _no, _they just didn't get it. They berated him, telling him he was wasting his time, that there were any number of things he _should _be doing like, oh, maybe...going after Hollows or making those weekly reports Yamamoto-soutaichou had asked for or doing his laundry.

One day, he snapped, and they never made him turn off the PlayStation again.

It took a week for Ikkaku's face to thaw completely.

Not to mention the bruises on his neck.

Hey...he'd warned them.

* * *

_For those of you hoping for some semblance of continuity in this series, I'm sorry. I just write these as they come to me, so each chapter is meant to stand alone as its own little story. As to this chapter itself...I have no clue how old Hitsu-taichou really is, but I assume he's a lot older than he seems...after all, Ukitake-taichou and Kyouraku-taichou are at _least _two thousand, aren't they? So...yeah. Two centuries sounded good. If I'm wrong...oops._

_And by the way...in the last chapter, I have no clue what it was Gin was doing in _his_ office...he might have been drawing on his legs, but...who knows with him?_


	14. Thank You

This was stupid.

Just about the only coherent thought he'd managed to have during the past two days was that one: this was stupid. Completely and utterly incomprehensible. Should have never happened. Just plain _wrong._

Kurotsuchi and Unohana had both told him that _he_ was wrong, and had explained in detail how it _had_ happened (it was the first time in Soul Society's history that the Fourth Division captain and the Twelfth Division captain had ever agreed on _anything)_. But Unohana had sounded far too much like a lecturing parent and he hadn't listened, and Kurotsuchi...well, nobody listened to Kurotsuchi. He was crazy.

Crazier than Ichimaru.

Well...uh...

"Ugh..." Hitsugaya groaned miserably. "Just what I need..."

Kurotsuchi and Ichimaru...and in his fever-heated mind, he saw them together, dancing wildly in a field of corpses, singing off-key about the joys of murder.

Groaning again, straining to keep the laughter bubbling up in his throat down (he did _not _want to laugh right now), Hitsugaya curled up in the fetal position with his fists pressed against his stomach.

As creepy as they were, the image of Kurotsuchi Mayuri and Ichimaru Gin dancing and singing was pretty damn funny.  
_  
Damn_ his traitorous imagination!

Taking in deep, steadying breaths, he strained to think of nice, _calming_ things...kittens, baby rabbits, a gentle breeze on a nice autumn day, the crisp, cool taste of watermelon, Matsumoto's smile--

Wait, whoa...hold on. Back up.

_What!_

His eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat.

"Oh! Taichou! Did I wake you?"

Turning his eyes upward, he saw his vice-captain standing by the bed, a wet washrag in her hand, looking at him. He shook his head slowly.

Sitting down at his bedside, Matsumoto sighed. "Having trouble sleeping, Taichou?"

"Ngh..."

"Awww...poor Hitsugaya-taichou...c'mon, lay back. This will make you feel better."

He did as she said, and she lay the folded, damp cloth on his forehead. It _did_ feel good...he'd been so hot lately...

Matsumoto frowned worriedly, and removed the thick blanket from his bed, leaving him covered in a thin sheet. "Unohana-taichou said to keep you warm, but...I don't think this is doing any good. You're not used to heat, after all...Hyourinmaru's kind of...conditioned you against it, huh?"

He didn't say anything, but a slight moan of pleasure escaped his lips when the stifling heat left his body. Even though his eyes were barely open, he saw the smile rise on Matsumoto's face.

"T-Thank you..." he managed to whisper.

"Shhh...don't talk, Hitsugaya-taichou. It's okay."

"Ugh...this is stupid...I'm a _spirit_...spirits shouldn't get _sick_..."

"You wouldn't think," Matsumoto said, "but...Unohana-taichou told us what it was. Shame she can't do anything for you...you need to get over this yourself, she says."

"Stupid...stupid...stupid..."

"Don't worry, Taichou. You'll be better soon..."

"Kurotsuchi told me...he could help me get better...by extracting my stomach..."

Matsumoto laughed. "Oh, I hope that was just a joke!"

"With..._that_ psycho...? No."

"Hmmm...you might be right."

The contemplative way she said this, for some reason, struck the young captain as extremely funny. She was completely serious, as if just realizing that such a procedure wouldn't be beyond Kurotsuchi at all.

This time, he couldn't hold back.

He laughed.

_Bad_ idea.

Two seconds after he started, it was over.

He doubled over and vomited.

Unohana had warned him, of course, that it would be painful. Hitsugaya ate very, _very _little on a given day, as dedicated as he was to work, and usually didn't drink much, either.

That meant, of course, that there was never much of anything in his stomach. He had been far too sick to manage to eat anything recently, either, even for the purpose of alleviating_...this_.

Throwing up when there was nothing _to_ throw up was the most miserable experience Hitsugaya Toushirou had ever experienced. He thought _dying_ would be preferable to this.

His stomach felt like it was on fire, twisting itself in knots as it strained to rid itself of whatever irritant it thought was there. Lightning bolts assaulted his entire body as he shook, sweat falling from his face. A million daggers shoved themselves into his gut, ripping him to shreds. Agonized moans tore from his dry throat.

Matsumoto's hand gently rubbed his back, reminding him to breathe. He might have told her that he_ knew _how to breathe, except for the fact that he couldn't speak...and the fact that, honestly, he was actually forgetting.

Puking took over your mind; no other thoughts ever came through.

When he finally was able to stop, when the last heave had passed, he collapsed in complete exhaustion. Matsumoto, on instinct, held him to her, still rubbing his back to soothe him.

"Taichou..." she whispered.

"Ngh...M-Matsumoto..."

She laid him back onto his bed and turned around. She turned back with a bowl in her hands. "Unohana-taichou thought I should bring this to you. Some soup will make the next time go smoother. Are you feeling better now?"

He barely managed a nod, head leaning back against the headboard. She set the bowl on a tray and positioned it over his lap. He picked up the spoon, but his hand shook. Glaring at the offending appendage, he struggled to stop it.

When it became clear that he was too tired and too ill to manage it, Matsumoto took the spoon from him and proceeded to feed him. He thought about telling her it wasn't necessary, that if he just went to sleep for a bit, he would be awake enough to feed himself; he wasn't a child. He could handle himself.

He was about to open his mouth to say these things, but another spoonful of soup stopped him before he could. Matsumoto winked at him. "I know what you're thinking, Taichou. And trust me...I know you're not a child. But you need to eat. Or...do you _want_ to go through that again?"

He didn't really need to answer that question.

When the soup was gone, Matsumoto smiled again and set the tray aside. "Ukitake-taichou gave me some tea that should help settle your stomach, if you want some later."

"That...w-would be...nice..."

"Okay. Sure thing." She stood up to leave.

"Uh...Matsumoto..."

She turned and looked at him. "Hm? What is it?"

"A-About...my...my work...I..."

She smiled. "Oh, hush."

"But...but..."

She leaned over him and kissed his forehead.

"Hush," she said again. "You let me worry about that..."

Eyes wide, mouth agape, he could come up with no answer.

She left the room.

He lifted a shaking hand and touched his forehead.

She...she had...kissed him.

_Kissed _him!

"What...?"

At any other time, in any other situation, he would have been furious at such a blatant invasion. Who said she could kiss him? He was her superior! That was _not _how a captain should be treated!

But this time...

Well...he'd let it slide.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"...Rangiku...thank you..."

Outside the room, Matsumoto stopped, turned her head, and smiled. "You're welcome...Toushirou."

* * *

_There's no time on earth when the people who care about you show it more than when you're sick. It's a double-edged sword, I guess. You don't have to do anything; you just lay back and other people do all your work for you. But...well, there's a price to pay, too. I'm sure just about everyone can attest to the utter torture that is vomiting up nothing...I don't think there's anything quite like that experience, and anyone who's never felt such pain can count themselves exceedingly lucky. _

_I'm not so sure if shinigami can get such illnesses, but since Ukitake-taichou obviously has a problem with his health (tuberculosis, if memory serves me right), I'd think Hitsugaya could get something too. I'm not sure if I wrote this just for an excuse for Matsumoto to kiss him...but regardless of any ulterior motive, I think it turned out pretty well._

_Hope you agree._

_...On a side note, I don't think I've ever been able to eat just after vomiting, but...Hitsugaya's a captain. He could probably do it. And if it turned out that it didn't do him any good, well...lapse in judgment. He brought it on himself, didn't he? _


	15. It Had to be Said

_Since writing "Betrayal," I've been contemplating an actual confrontation between Matsumoto and Hinamori about her behavior at the end of the SS arc. I also wondered how Hitsugaya would react if he knew how Matsumoto felt about it (according to my view, of course, since there's no indication in the manga of such a visceral reaction from Matsumoto as the one I gave her in "Betrayal"). _

_Maybe it goes without saying, but this, like "Betrayal," contains spoilers for the end of the SS arc. It also contains some strong language, but nothing too offensive, I think. _

* * *

She wanted to forgive.

She wanted to overlook it, to put it in the past and block it out of her memory like she had when Gin had turned his back on her. She was slowly, _slowly,_ getting over that...and she wished she could get over this, too.

But she couldn't.

She wasn't as good a person as her captain.

The more she tried to remember the good, the more light shone on the bad...and it just wasn't going to work.

Hinamori Momo would never be the same in her eyes.

Ever.

She was going on about how wonderful the living world was, and Hitsugaya was smiling. He even replied on occasion, and that was a surprise because the Tenth Division captain was anything but a talkative person, and the things Hinamori was pointing out were pointless and stupid.

Matsumoto knew the anger coiling in her gut was dangerous, but she also didn't really feel a need to care. She reveled in it...because it felt better than the pain of knowing that her captain was in love with a woman who hurt him.

Ikkaku and Yumichika, who were accompanying them, had caught onto the blonde shinigami's current mood, and were careful not to say anything that would upset her further or, worse, turn her rage on_ them._

They were of the Eleventh Division, and they considered themselves stronger than most of their peers, but...they_ knew._

Hell hath no fury like a woman with a sword.

Matsumoto liked those two. They were good people, honest and trustworthy, even if Yumichika's eyebrows did creep her out and Ikkaku's luck-luck dance was the _stupidest_ thing she had ever seen (except perhaps a grown man running away from a girl with a soccer ball...but then again, Kurosaki Karin _was_ rather scary).

She liked them...yes. And she appreciated the fact that they were there. There was something about their presence that made her feel slightly better.

But...it wasn't much.

"..._Cutest _little thing, isn't it, Shiro-chan?"

"Don't call him that..." Matsumoto hissed under her breath, and the pair behind her didn't miss the venom in her voice. "You don't deserve to call him that..."

"I thought I told you, it's _Hitsugaya-taichou!"_ said the white-haired boy, but there was no real conviction in the admonition.

"Rangiku-san..." Yumichika murmured softly, "...you should calm down, you know, before you say something you'll regret...I know how you feel about your captain...you don't want to hurt him any more, do you?"

No...of course she didn't. She had never wanted to hurt him. He was more than her captain, more than a friend...something far more precious than that. She didn't even know if there were words to express how important he was to her.

It wasn't jealousy that made her stomach cramp and her head throb whenever she saw Hinamori these days...nothing of the sort. It was the knowledge that she didn't deserve him.

The damn whore...

"Oh, Rangiku-san, aren't those flowers_ lovely?"_

"...I guess."

Hitsugaya and Hinamori turned to look at her.

"Is something the matter, Rangiku-san?"

"That's a stupid question," Matsumoto snapped.

"Matsumoto, what are you...?"

"It doesn't matter. Don't mind me. I'm tired."

_...Tired of_ her.

Hinamori frowned and crossed her arms. "Rangiku-san, you're not tired. Something's bothering you, and I'm not moving 'til you tell me what it is."

Matsumoto passed her by. "Stay there, then."

Hitsugaya scowled. "Matsumoto, what's your problem?"

She stopped. "...Nothing you should concern yourself with, Taichou."

"I asked a question, Matsumoto, and that answer won't fly."

She turned and looked at him, at his cold, sparkling, hypnotizing eyes. They really were a lovely color...a downright _gorgeous_ green that numerous female shinigami (and the occasional male, such as a certain Eleventh Division pretty boy who _always _felt the need to point out beautiful things, regardless of what others thought about him because of it) had only just begun to notice and admire.

And the only person those lovely green eyes ever seemed to soften for had eyes that reminded Matsumoto of a cockroach's back.

"Fine...you want to know?" Matsumoto asked, and the tone of her voice was frightening. "I didn't want to say this because I knew it would upset you, Taichou. But fine."

She crossed her arms. "I'm bothered because this entire situation feels entirely too wrong to me. I'm _bothered_ because this entire situation _isn't fair._ I'm _bothered_ because _she_ is acting like nothing ever happened!"

Hitsugaya was silent for a moment. "...Matsumoto. If that's how Hinamori wants to deal with this...what right do you have to be angry about it? She _idolized_ Aizen, you know that as much as anyone else."

"I'm not _talking_ about that four-eyed overbearing _fuck_, I'm talking about _her!"_ Matsumoto snarled, her rage suddenly coming to a head. "She's acting like _she_ never did anything and god_damn_ it, it _pisses me off!"_

Ikkaku ran a hand over his smooth head and groaned. "Oh, boy...this won't be good."

"What...what do...you m-mean...Rangiku-san?" Hinamori stuttered, which just made her angrier.

"Don't play _cute_ with me, Hinamori, you know _precisely_ what I mean!"

She had spent so many months straining to keep up a friendly façade for her captain's sake...but now that it had crumbled, she didn't really feel bad about it. As angry as she was, it made her feel better to finally let her thoughts on the matter be shown in the open.

"What you've done makes you no better than Aizen, Gin, or Tousen! You think you're a _victim_ in this? You want to say he_ used _you, that he _tricked _you? Well, you know what? _I don't buy it. _Trick or no trick, the fact is you don't even have the decency to feel _ashamed_ at what you've done!"

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed, and his voice was tinged with ice. "Matsumoto..." he growled dangerously, "...watch what you're saying..."

_"No!_ Punish me for this if you feel it necessary, but damn it, I'm going to let you know what I think about this!" She turned her blazing gray eyes to the now-quivering vice-captain.

"Do you _see...? _Do you get what's going on here...?" she asked in a deceptively soft voice as she approached Hinamori. "After what you've done...to _him_...he still protects you. After you came at him with the full intention of killing him, after your backstabbing _maggot_ of a captain almost carried that intention_ out_ and you didn't even _blink,_ he's still putting himself in the line of fire for you...he still loves you even after that...and do you even care _one goddamned bit_ about that?"

Hitsugaya's anger wavered into confusion.

Hinamori was shaking.

Ikkaku and Yumichika were looking at everything but the scene in front of them.

"I don't understand it..." Matsumoto said. "Maybe you can enlighten me. I really don't _get _what's so great about you that my captain would love you so much. You hung around his house when he was younger and you gave him watermelon, and that's it? Bonded for life? You gave him the name 'Shiro-chan' and he worships you? What is it, Hinamori? What's your secret? _Hm?"_

The tension in the air was almost a living thing, coiled around them like a huge, malicious snake poised to strike. The anger in Matsumoto Rangiku's voice was unlike anything they had ever heard.

And none of them dared say a word.

_"Enlighten_ me, Hinamori Momo, as to why you get a second chance after spitting in his face, trusting a man you barely knew over a friend you've had for years. _Enlighten me_ as to why you can get away with trying to kill him without _any_ repercussions at all! _Enlighten me as to why you're so ever-fucking perfect that you don't have to care about the man who loves you!"_

If looks could kill...how old was that saying? Who had first come up with it?

Whoever it had been...must have seen the expression currently twisting Matsumoto's beautiful features into a glare of such black hatred that even Zaraki Kenpachi would cower in terror.

Hinamori's face was as white as the spirits she so often saved from hollows, and it did Matsumoto's heart good to see it.

_"Tell_ me...Hinamori Momo...why? Why are _you_ the only one he ever thinks about? Why are _you_ the one who can call him 'Shiro-chan' without him getting angry? Why are _you_ the only one he's given his heart to?"

Tears began burning the backs of the blonde vice-captain's eyes.

"...I've stood by him, helped him however I could, backed him up during fights with particularly dangerous hollows, nursed him back to health when he's sick or injured; I'd give my _soul _for Hitsugaya Toushirou without a second thought...so why _you?_ Why are _you_ so special that you can ignore his existence and still have his love? Why do _you_ get that smile I'd give my life for when you haven't done a _goddamned thing!"_

She was crying now, but she couldn't feel it.

She couldn't feel anything.

She felt drained...dead. The anger had left her now...and all she felt was numb.

Without another word, she vanished.

Ikkaku sighed. "...Damn..."

Yumichika's eyes were cold and razor sharp. "...I'm curious to know your answer, Hinamori-fukutaichou...if you even have one."

It took a lot for a man like Yumichika to get truly angry. He was _annoyed_ by many things, but very _few_ things...could put _that_ look in his eyes.

"I think you got some thinkin' to do, Momo," Ikkaku said, "'cuz don't you go thinkin' that anything she just said was wrong. I ain't all 'at observant when it comes to anything outside of fighting, but I've wondered myself why Hitsugaya-taichou dances on _your_ strings when Matsumoto-fukutaichou practically bends over backwards to get a single 'thank you' out of 'im."

Hinamori could think of nothing to say.

She turned her gaze to Hitsugaya, whose haunted green eyes were staring at the ground. "S-Shiro-chan..."

"I think _Shiro-chan _died when you tried to kill him," Ikkaku said.

* * *

It was midnight.

Matsumoto sat on the roof of Inoue Orihime's home, staring at the full moon and marveling at just how stupid she had been. She should have just kept her mouth shut and faced Hitsugaya's disapproval later than blow up at Hinamori and risk everything.

If there was one indisputable truth about her captain, it was that he didn't stand for _anyone_ treating Hinamori Momo the way she had just treated her.

It had felt good, initially, but now...she regretted it.

Not for Hinamori's sake. Matsumoto would likely never actually _care_ about anything that happened to the Fifth Division vice-captain ever again...but...

"Matsumoto."

She stiffened, but didn't turn to face him.

"...Taichou."

She heard his uniform whispering about him as he approached her. She lowered her head and waited, knowing what would happen now.

She'd be lucky if she managed to keep her position after this.

Her heart stopped when she felt his arms wrap gently around her neck, felt his head rest on her shoulder.

"Matsumoto...I'm sorry..."

He kissed her cheek.

"I didn't mean to hurt you so much...I didn't realize..."

She couldn't think.

She couldn't breathe.

She felt shame wash over her at the guilt so evident in his voice.

And then...

"...I love you, too, Rangiku...more than you could ever know..."

...She felt nothing but his warm, comforting embrace.

She finally managed to turn around and face him.

She threw her arms around him and cried.

Hitsugaya held her close, staring at the full moon and marveling at just how stupid he had been.

* * *

_I think this would qualify as my first serious attempt at a _real _romantic scene, and while I'm not entirely sure how well I managed it, it works for me. I find myself hoping that, while this was going on, Hinamori was watching from another roof._

_Yes...I really, **really **don't like her anymore. It takes a lot for a character I like initially to make me hate them, but Hinamori Momo is one of the only two to have done it, the other being Uchiha Sasuke from Naruto. And actually, he's starting to get interesting again...so maybe Hinamori's the only one now._


	16. Dinner With the Family

_Wow...31 reviews for the last one. Guess you guys liked it, huh? Well, I'm glad that so many people understand my sentiment regarding recent events. One of the reviews I received, though, made me wonder. Evidently, HitsuMatsu is"definitely" a crack pairing. Now...maybe I haven't been writing fanfiction long enough to fully understand what those are, but...I've always thought crack pairings were those match-ups that were so far from canon as to be completely nonsensical...i. e. HitsugayaxIkkaku, or KenpachixIshida (Great...now I'm going to have nightmares; thanks, me). It would seem to me that, since Hitsugaya and Matsumoto already have a relationship, and a bond, it wouldn't seem so out of the ordinary that they would end up together. Is age difference the problem? Come now. I hardly think Soul Society puts much stock in that, considering looks are most definitely deceiving in a place like that. Office romance? I've never seen any evidence that Soul Society forbids such things. Hmmm...maybe I'm just thinking too much into this._

_Anyway, I doubt this one will live up to the last one, but I think it works. Enjoy._

* * *

In retrospect, he supposed he should have listened to Rukia's warning. 

She'd told him before he left that, "Once you get involved with the Kurosaki family, you can never leave. Your life will never be the same."

He'd thought that to be a highly confusing warning. After all, he was only patrolling, and if he and Matsumoto happened to run into that Ichigo kid, how would that change his life?

He didn't realize that it really wasn't Ichigo who was responsible for the life-changing...it was the _rest _of those psychos.

It was really just a chance happening. He'd been walking the streets of the city, waiting for Hollows to show up, hoping to run into one soon so that he could release some of the tension that had been building up throughout the day.

Matsumoto had pointed out the girl, saying, "I think that's one of Kurosaki Ichigo's sisters."

Hitsugaya had been about to respond with, "Good for her," because he wasn't in the best of moods and _really _didn't want tosocialize, but then he'd looked over at her.

She was having some sort of trouble.

And he found he couldn't turn away _now_.

He walked over.

"C'mon, sweetie, share!" a young teenage boy was saying with a smirk on his face, and Kurosaki's sister was obviously frightened. She was wearing a pink dress, and had light brown hair.

Hitsugaya thought her name was Yuzu.

"But...but it's _mine! _You have your _own _lunch!"

Oh, for the love of...terrorizing a little girl for her _food? _It never failed to amaze the white-haired captain how low some people sank...

He thought fleetingly that Kurotsuchi would like this idiot.

Hitsugaya didn't.

"But...but...it's _mine!" _the boy mocked, grabbing the boxed lunch Yuzu had placed in front of her. "Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?"

"Irony is lost on primitive primates..." Hitsugaya muttered, rolling his eyes, and the boy whirled around.

"_What _was that, shrimp? Hey, mind your business!"

"...Or what?"

The cool, confident expression on Hitsugaya's face was one he was known for. He knew this kid was no problem. Sure, his power was vastly limited in this false body, but he was still well-trained.

He didn't _need _Hyourinmaru to deal with _this. _The sword would have been insulted if he had.

"Back off! I'm talkin' t' cupcake, here! Don't make me knock you flat, weirdo!"

"Somehow I doubt her name is _cupcake_. It's rude to call someone you don't know by anything other than their name...didn't your parents ever teach you manners?"

"Shut up, shrimp!"

Hitsugaya sighed. "They never get it..."

Matsumoto shook her head. "Nope."

"All right," Hitsugaya said, "let's set things straight here, shall we? You put that lunch down and walk away like a good little boy, and I won't say or do anything. Otherwise..."

He left the threat unspoken.

"Looks like I gotta teach you respect!"

"...I don't take lessons from boys who pick on girls...isn't my style. Especially not _thieves _who pick on girls...it's unsightly, as an associate of mine might say."

"Oh, yeah! I'll show you, you little--"

He went down in three seconds.

Hitsugaya handed Yuzu's lunch back to her. "Here. I believe this is yours."

Yuzu was staring at the offered food. "You're...Hitsugaya Toushirou, aren't you?"

"Hm? How do you know my name?"

"Oniichan told me about you," she said. "He said you were a little guy with white hair."

Hitsugaya scowled. "Figures _he'd _say that...well, yes, that is my name. Yours is Yuzu, if I'm not mistaken."

She nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Yuzu."

* * *

How she had coerced him into eating dinner at her house, Hitsugaya would later marvel at. He didn't even really remember what had happened, just realized later on that night that he was sitting at the Kurosakis' dining table, with Isshin talking up a storm and Yuzu fluttering about the kitchen setting up the meal, Ichigo and Karin saying nothing, identical expressions of boredom on their faces. 

As they sat down to eat, Yuzu told her family what had happened earlier in the day. And when she gave him an extra large portion because "Hitsugaya-niichan was so brave," he knew he was stuck.

When Isshin began patting him on the back and proclaiming at the top of his boisterous voice that Hitsugaya was a "fine young man" and "welcome anytime," and Ichigo nodded to him with a quiet, "Thanks," and Karin looked at him with silent approval, the smallest of smiles on her young face that he somehow knew she didn't give out to many people, he sighed heavily and began to eat.

Yes...he should have listened to Rukia.

Son of a _bitch..._


	17. Understood

_Spoilers again...tread with caution.

* * *

_

It was no secret that Hitsugaya despised Aizen Sousuke and Kaname Tousen for what they had done to Soul Society; he had made his opinion known countless times, whenever someone had the audacity to bring it up.

It was a bit strange, however, that he barely ever mentioned Ichimaru Gin when vocalizing his hatred...and whenever he did, it was with decidedly less venom than when he mentioned the other two.

Most of the other shinigami hypothesized that it had something to do with the fact that his vice-captain had been childhood friends with the Third Division captain. Everyone knew that Hitsugaya cared about Matsumoto, even though he barely ever showed it, and so that was the most popular theory.

And indeed, that was a part of it.

But it was a bit more complicated than that.

The reason Hitsugaya didn't feel the same animosity toward Gin as he had toward his two accomplices (although Aizen had obviously been the ringleader) was because of a singular incident.

Ichimaru Gin, for all his faults, understood.

It had been a while back, but the boy captain remembered it clearly. He had been walking with Matsumoto toward the First Division's headquarters to deliver some paperwork when they had chanced upon Ichimaru.

He and Matsumoto had conversed a bit, mostly about nothing, and that seemed to be the end of it. Matsumoto continued on, but Hitsugaya stopped and turned back over his shoulder, catching an odd expression on the man's face.

Ichimaru turned as well, and for once that grin, that annoying grin, was gone. He was frowning, and his eyes were actually visible. There was a somber look in those eyes, and it made Hitsugaya frown in confusion.

"...Hey, 'Gaya," Ichimaru said, and for once the pet name didn't rile the white-haired boy.

"What is it, Ichimaru?"

"I know me 'n Rangiku-chan ain't 'zactly...close no more. So...if somethin' ever happens...you take care 'o her, huh? She's m' best friend, ya know...'n if somethin' ever happens t' me...well, I jus' wanna know she's safe. I wanna know she'll have somebody...'f I ever end up gone."

His usually ridiculous drawl was soft, contemplative, and sad. Hitsugaya hadn't thought anything of it at the time; he'd just thought that it was a friend feeling apprehensive because he was in a line of work that constantly put him in danger.

But that wasn't it.

He'd known. The plan had already been set in motion, and Ichimaru had been making sure that Matsumoto would have a shoulder to support her when he ripped the rug out from under her feet.

And months later, when he was lying facedown on a floor made slick with ice and blood, both his own, knowing for certain that he was going to die, he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it...the deceptively chipper captain became serious again.

"...Stay alive, Hitsugaya-taichou," he said, and they were the clearest words Hitsugaya had ever heard. "Stay alive, because she's gonna need you...now more 'n ever. She ain't ever goan f'give me this...but she'll have you...so stay alive."

And, against all odds, he had.

He'd survived, he'd persevered, he'd trained and fought and scrambled his way into top form, making absolutely certain that he was as strong as he could possibly be.

So that he could stay alive.

He owed it to his vice-captain, because even though he never said it he loved her and she was now his only true friend, the only one who really understood him.

And he owed it to Gin...because even though he had betrayed Soul Society, even though he was a backstabbing bastard...

...He had the decency to feel bad about it.

And that was more than he could say about the other two backstabbing bastards.

So he never mentioned Ichimaru whenever the subject was brought up, because he didn't deserve to be lumped together with Aizen and Tousen. He was better than they.

Not by much...but better.

He had cared about his friend, even as he turned his back on her. He had regretted hurting her, even as he did it. He had ensured that she would live, even as he prepared to kill her.

Ichimaru probably expected Hitsugaya to kill him, eventually, and Hitsugaya was prepared now to do it.

And he would do it quickly, cleanly, without much pain.

Because Ichimaru Gin was better than his accomplices.

Ichimaru Gin understood.

* * *

_I've always thought that Gin was...creepy, and maybe that was part of the reason I liked him initially. His manner of speaking, which is usually casual to the point of silliness but sometimes (when he uses Shinsou's shikai) is downright demonic...I love him. I always like interesting villains, and Gin was most decidedly a villain from the very beginning. And that constant smile...yeesh. Evil. Sadistic. Downright awesome._

_I also have much more sympathy for him than for Aizen or Tousen, because he didn't fight Matsumoto when she stood up to him. Something about that just...appealed to me. So, inevitably, that sympathy turned into this. Somehow I doubt Hitsugaya would actually feel this way about Ichimaru, but...I like it anyway. It's an interesting idea to me. _


	18. Soul Burial

_No spoilers this time. Yay!_

_

* * *

_

Matsumoto's former captain had been much older than her current one, and had been the first man she had served under. She had respected him, sure, as any vice-captain should, but not nearly as much as she respected Hitsugaya.

Part of it had to do with his power, and his youth, but that wasn't nearly all of it. She thought she had realized just how much she respected her current captain one nondescript day about twelve years before a fifteen-year-old human boy had shot through Soul Society and turned everything upside down.

It had been a routine patrol that day, and she hadn't expected anything to happen. Kill off a few hollows, make the report, blah, blah, blah...same old, same old.

And it had started that way, certainly.

But then she and Hitsugaya had found a hollow that was chasing another spirit. A young girl of about twelve or so, by the look of her.

The look on Hitsugaya's face when he'd seen that child's spirit was simultaneously hot and cold, fierce and calculating. Like a bonfire trapped beneath a sheet of ice.

He had leapt over the girl and sliced the thing clean in half with one swift movement, drawing his sword and sheathing it in a matter of a single second.

He turned, approached the girl, and began to speak to her. Matsumoto couldn't remember now just what he had said to her, but it had calmed her.

And when he'd performed the girl's soul burial, stamping the hilt of his zanpakutou on her pale forehead, she had seen the marked difference between her current captain and her previous captain, between Hitsugaya and most other shinigami in general.

His eyes were glistening.

As he stood, slowly walking back to her, a single tear slid down his face. He wiped it away irritably, but not before she had seen it.

Matsumoto realized that every time she had ever seen him perform the ancient ritual, he always seemed to get choked up, especially when dealing with young people.

"What's wrong, Taichou?" she asked innocently. "Did you know her or something?"

He shook his head. "Never heard of her. Name was Rachel. But...well...nothing. It's nothing."

"Taichou? C'mon, what is it?"

He sighed heavily, looked up at her, and evidently had seen something in her face that reassured him, because he spoke again.

"It's just...they died before their time. It's why they continue to wander like they do, as if they're lost. It's why they're vulnerable to hollows."

She knew that, of course. The majority of spirits she met in the line of duty often refused to accept the idea that they had died, even though the proof was right in front of them. It was a bit disconcerting, sure, but to get so emotional about it?

"..._I _died before my time..." Hitsugaya murmured softly, and Matsumoto jumped a little. She had expected him to leave the explanation at that and prided herself on the fact that she had even gotten _that _out of the usually quiet boy.

"T-Taichou?"

Hitsugaya's eyes, at first so blazingly determined, then soft and empathetic, now were clouded and far away.

"I don't remember much...it was a long time ago and I was very young...but I died in a blizzard. I don't even remember what I was doing there in the first place, but...I was headed somewhere."

Matsumoto realized as he spoke that she was probably the first person to ever hear this. If anyone else at _all _had heard it, it would have been Hinamori.

She felt honored.

At the same time, though, she felt sad.

The expression on Hitsugaya's young face was heartbreaking. "My...parents...they lost me. They abandoned me. I don't know how I know this...I couldn't have been more than six...but I do. I just do. They ditched me. Probably didn't even bother _trying _to find me."

"Taichou..."

Hitsugaya shook his head. "I don't like to think about them. It's in the past. But...but I hate seeing spirits like me...lives that ended before they even had a chance to begin. It's not fair. It's...part of the reason I became a shinigami in the first place."

Not power, not glory, not to escape poverty...he had become a shinigami for reasons completely unlike those of most.

Her previous captain had said he'd done it simply because he'd been bored.

Yes...she respected Hitsugaya far more than her previous captain. He was young, and still a bit naïve when it came to certain things, but he remembered something that so many of her colleagues had forgotten.

The spirits they sent to Soul Society were human beings, just like they were. The spirits they saved from hollows had died, just like they had.

Hitsugaya hadn't allowed himself to forget that. As hard as it was for him to deal with the repercussions each time he performed a soul burial, he never allowed himself the relief of forgetting. He refused to think of those spirits as lower beings, helpless sheep in need of guidance.

He refused to let go of his own humanity.

It was just one of the many things Matsumoto loved about Hitsugaya Toushirou. One of those things that only she, as his vice-captain, knew about him.

Shinigami don't cry. _Death Gods _don't cry.

But humans do.

* * *

_I don't know what to say about this one. It was inspired by #6 and by something else I read that I don't remember the name of now (sorry!), and I think it turned out decently well. One of my attempts at philosophy, I think. I don't know. Whatever. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. This took me a while to get out, and I'm sorry for the wait._  



	19. Grudging Respect

_Winged Knight requested that I involve Zaraki in one of these, so after thinking it over for a while, I came up with this. Hopefully this works.  
_

_

* * *

_

In his line of work, Hitsugaya had learned one indisputable lesson over all others, one single proverb that encompassed just about everything he had ever done and seen since becoming a shinigami.

Expect the unexpected.

Regardless of this, however, there were certain things that, were he to see them, he would disbelieve and discount as a hallucination.

An example might be a certain daydream he had had recently while sick with a relatively common but still debilitating illness, a daydream involving two of the craziest men he had ever met performing a dance routine on a floor covered in blood and bodies.

He _still _laughed about that, as creepy as the image was, especially when he saw Kurotsuchi at a Captain's meeting or happened across Kira in the mess hall.

He couldn't help it.

Another such happening, however, had been real, and it was a story he told Matsumoto one day while on patrol. He seemed to be doing a lot of remembering lately, and found that he was much more comfortable relaying these memories to his vice-captain than he had been.

He supposed they were getting closer.

He'd been at he Fourth Division's infirmary checking on some of his men, just before Kuchiki Rukia's failed execution and the revealing of Aizen Sousuke's true nature.

It had been one of those things he was sure he would never see no matter how long he lived. He had been acquainted with numerous members of other divisions, and since the Eleventh's headquarters were so close to his own, it was that band of bloodthirsty thugs that he was most used to seeing.

And one thing he had just _known _he would never see was an Eleventh Division member crying.

Sure, Kusajishi Yachiru was a kid, younger even than he, and it shouldn't have been such a shock that such a small, petite girl could shed tears...given her babyish appearance, it should have been completely natural.

But somehow...it just hadn't been.

And as much as he wanted sometimes to deny it, Hitsugaya had a protective side...a very pronounced protective side, especially when dealing with young people, and so he hadn't been able to leave her alone.

"Kusajishi," he had said simply, standing near the bench on which she sat, sniffling and wiping at her face with her sleeves.

She looked up at him, and her normally innocent, happy, dancing eyes were somber and deeply troubled. "Oh...it's Hitsu-chan," she said.

He ignored that.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

The pink-haired girl looked down at her lap and her eyes darted to the door beside her. "It...it's Ken-chan. Ken-chan died."

"If he's in there, he didn't die."

"But he did! He won't wake up! I know, 'cuz I checked!"

"Is Zaraki in that room?"

"Yes, but he's dead! Ichi killed him!"

Ichi...Hitsugaya had had no idea who she had been referring to at the time. He simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Unohana would have moved his body if he had died, Kusajishi. Zaraki isn't dead. He's probably just sleeping."

"No! He's not! I checked! I kicked him, but he won't wake up!"

Raising an eyebrow, Hitsugaya frowned. "You...kicked him."

"Ken-chan says if you kick a guy between his legs and he doesn't make a noise, then he's probably dead! I kicked, Hitsu-chan! A whole lot of times! But he won't wake up!"

If not for the fact that Yachiru was in such a state, Hitsugaya would have laughed. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from letting a snicker out.

"...Probably. He said probably, didn't he? Don't worry, Kusijashi. Zaraki wouldn't die so easily. Just be patient."

"But Ken-chan's dead!"

"No, he's not. Just be patient and I'm sure he'll wake up soon."

The girl's eyes were so full of hope that it made Hitsugaya's heart ache. She looked up at him as if he were some sort of god come to her in order to answer her prayers.

"R-Really, Hitsu-chan? Honest?"

"Honest. If I know one thing about Zaraki, it's that he doesn't go down easily. He wouldn't die like this. If there was enough of him left to warrant taking him here, then there's enough of him left to survive."

Evidently Yachiru had agreed with this idea, because she smiled and nodded. Then she had run off, proclaiming that she had to tell "baldy-head" and "peacock-face" the good news.

But as weird as that was...the story hadn't ended there.

Weeks later, long after Zaraki had made a full (and miraculous) recovery, he had run into Hitsugaya...and _hadn't _mocked the boy captain for being such a shrimp, which had brought Hitsugaya up short (pun _entirely _intended).

"Oi."

"...Zaraki?"

"Been meanin' t' ask ya somethin'."

"Huh? What?"

"Back when I first woke up after 'at Ichigo bastard knocked me flat, Yachiru kept sayin' you was right, 'at you'd said I weren't dead 'n 'at I'd be back."

Hitsugaya had raised an eyebrow at this, nodding. "Yes...I spoke to her."

"Why'd you do that? You ain't the type just t' make small talk wit' people."

"She was crying," Hitsugaya said. "She'd thought you were dead. It had her in hysterics. I...had to say _something."_

The huge, hulking captain's single visible eye appraised him with a thoughtfulness that didn't seem natural for him.

"...'Zat right. So...you cheered 'er up when she was sad, huh?"

"Uh...yeah."

Zaraki had looked at him for another long moment, then grunted something that might have been approval but just as well could have been a curse, and had walked away.

Hitsugaya hadn't made anything of it for a long while after that, until he realized one very important thing.

Zaraki _never _called him a shrimp anymore.

"Huh..." Matsumoto said thoughtfully after Hitsugaya told her all of this. "...who'da thunk it? Seems that blockhead has a soft side after all."

Kusajishi Yachiru could cry, and Zaraki Kenpachi had a soft side.

...Expect the unexpected, indeed.

* * *

_I think the next one will have to be one of those over-the-top silly ones...I'm getting too sentimental for my own good. I think I'm turning into a complete sap. Anyway, 'til next time. Oh...and if anyone has a request, feel free to ask. It might take me a while, but if I can work it, I'll be sure to do it._

_Ja ne. _


	20. Slaughter and Sundaes

_Let me first apologize for this blatantly impossible idea...I don't generally write crossovers, but this one I couldn't resist._

/  
/_  
_

Gripping Hyourinmaru tightly in his right fist, he took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. _This_ was going to be interesting...

He couldn't remember ever seeing such a concentration of hollows before. They were practically crawling over each other, as if the abandoned mansion were a huge, mutated beehive. He couldn't even count them all.

Thankfully, they were lowly creatures, about as difficult to defeat as cockroaches...still, he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. He wished Matsumoto were here, not because he needed backup but because he wanted to get this over with quickly.

Sighing, Hitsugaya started forward.

"Hey, kid."

Stopping again, the young captain scowled and turned his head over his shoulder. The man was walking toward him with the casual yet cocky stride that reminded him rather forcefully of Ichimaru...

...Although the sense of _wrongness _wasn't there.

He even _looked _a bit like the former Third Division captain, with silver hair covering his forehead and a smirk on his face. His eyes danced with amusement, but they were open and much easier to read.

"You can...see me?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see ya. Other people can't?"

"Not when I'm like this, no. You shouldn't, either."

"Guess I'm special."

He looked past Hitsugaya at the hollow-infested building and the smirk left his face. He flipped a pistol from the holster at his right hip into his hand with the ease and flourish of long practice.

"Tch...havin' a regular party over there, and they didn't even invite me."

"I wouldn't _want _to join one of _their _parties..."

"Yeah, guys like them're generally bad news...but any company's good company with enough alcohol."

"If you say so..." Hitsugaya muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Sounds like ya don't believe me. Never had a drink before, kiddo?"

"No. And don't call me 'kiddo.'"

"Fair enough. Well, I dunno what you're doin' here, but, uh...stand back, huh? I'm gonna crash this party."

"I don't stand back. This is my responsibility."

"How d'ya figure?"

"...It's my job to deal with hollows."

"Hollows? That what you call those? Hm. Your job, huh? You don't _look _old enough to have a work permit."

"Ha. Very funny."

"So you're gonna take those guys down, huh?"

"Just watch me."

Drawing his zanpakutou, the Tenth Division captain smirked at the Ichimaru look-alike and sprang forward.

His blade flashed in the moonlight, leaving an endless trail of blood in its wake. Hyourinmaru's cry sent ice in every direction, shattering arms and legs, claws and masks.

He was a fool to want Matsumoto to help him...this was stupid.

After facing Aizen and his arrancar minions, normal hollows were a joke. They dropped like flies, literally. He'd always thought that phrase to be ridiculously hyperbolic, but...it was the only way he could describe it.

He really felt like a god.

The chaos ended in less than a minute.

He whirled on his heel and smirked at his audience. "Still look like a _kiddo _to you?"

The silver-haired man smirked...

...Then lifted his gun.

Hitsugaya froze.

The weapon crashed.

A bullet whizzed past his ear, and a hollow he hadn't noticed was pitched backward, a neat, smoldering hole in its mask, and drifted into the air like scattered ashes.

"...Yep. You do. Don't look away 'til they all stop twitchin'."

The man's smirk widened.

Hitsugaya scowled. "I'm not glass. I won't shatter from one miserable little peon sneaking up on me."

"Don't be an idiot. Get into the habit 'n you'll end up wit' yer back turned when a _real _problem shows up...then what? Yer fucked."

The scowl vanished.

"...You've...got a point."

"Still...you're good. Finished my job for me 'n I barely did anything. S'pose I should give ya a cut for that."

"Don't bother. I don't need money."

"Huh? _Everybody _needs money, dude. You rich or something?"

"...Something like that."

"Hm. Well...how 'bout I at least getcha some food or something? You helped me out...I know a place with killer sundaes. Best you'll ever have."

"...I'm not a kid, you know. I'm nearly two centuries old."

"So? Never too old for a sundae. C'mon."

The lopsided smile on the man's face was strangely disarming...and Hitsugaya felt that, somehow, he could trust this stranger who could see him.

Besides...if worse came to worst, he wasn't a captain for nothing.

"...Fine. I guess. But...what's your name? I don't associate with strangers."

"My name? Ain't too polite to ask a name without givin' yer own, is it?"

"Fair enough...I'm Hitsugaya Toushirou."

The man smirked. "Nice t' meetcha, Hitsu. Name's Redgrave. Tony Redgrave."

Hitsugaya shook the man's gloved hand when it was offered. "Hello, Mister Redgrave."

"Just Tony, man. Tony. Now c'mon. I'm cravin' a fix. Need me some ice cream."

"Uh...I should change."

"Eh? Why? Robes're cool."

"I can't eat in this form. I'm a spirit."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "...Oh. I get it. So what? You got a body hangin' around someplace?"

"Yes."

He walked away. When he came back in his gigai, Tony frowned thoughtfully. "Hm. Don't look like ya changed nuttin' but yer clothes, man. Well, whatever. C'mon."

"Sure."

After walking for a few minutes, Hitsugaya frowned. "Tony...what's your job?"

"Mercenary."

"...Oh."

"What's yers?"

"Death god."

"...Oh."

They looked at each other.

They kept walking.

/  
/

_For those of you who don't know who Tony is, he's Dante Sparda from Capcom's _Devil May Cry _series. Tony Redgrave is his alias from the novel published by Tokyopop. I couldn't banish the thought of these two interacting with each other...maybe because Hitsugaya looks quite similar to Dante's twin brother, Vergil...I dunno. Anyway, I'll be looking into the various requests I received last chapter and trying to write them. I just had to write this one...it wouldn't go away. I may bring Tony back in later chapters...he's a fun character. I don't know yet. Hope you liked it._

I don't know why FF won't let me put in the page breaks...but it won't. Hence, the slashes. I don't like how it looks, but...oh, well.  



	21. The Wilderness

He'd once entertained the idea that the stupidest thing he'd ever done was allow Hinamori Momo to keep a series of debilitating photos from his youth, and while he still considered that pretty damn stupid, it no longer hit the top of the list.

Sitting here, stuffed in between his vice-captain and a stack of suitcases and backpacks, listening to Kurosaki Isshin sing along with the radio with no regard whatsoever to the fact that he was _completely _off-key, Hitsugaya longed for sweet, merciful death.

He knew he should have stood by his decision to decline the invitation. The Annual Kurosaki Camping Trip™ (complete with trademark, as proven by the _pamphlet _Isshin had given him, with a completely straight face as if it were the most _normal_ thing in the world) was _not _his idea of fun. Stuck in the middle of nowhere for who knew how long, sweltering in front of a fire while swatting away bugs and being coated in dirt was supposed to be entertaining?

Hitsugaya didn't get it.

He supposed it was Yuzu's fault for acting so excited about the whole thing. She'd invited him, and her eyes had been so full of hope that his initial emphatic "no" had caught in his throat.

And when Matsumoto had caught the fever, grinning and nodding and saying that she never got the chance to see the glory of nature and that this would be a lot fun, he'd slumped his shoulders and finally nodded.

It was a sad fact of life that Matsumoto could get just about anything out of him...and with Yuzu on her team, that was it. No contest.

"Oh, come on, Taichou!" Matsumoto said with a smile. "You don't get out often enough, anyway. This will be a chance for you to relax. Out with the trees, and the wild animals, sleeping under the stars, a nice warm fire at night...it'll be great!"

"Sorry, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya said with a scowl, "but I'm with Ichigo. This is a bad idea and I'd much rather be doing something else. Something more entertaining. Like peeling my skin off and bathing in salt. This is the last time I let you talk me into anything."

Yuzu, who had been talking animatedly with a mildly interested Karin (if only because her sister's chatter was at _least _less of a headache than Isshin's cacophony), turned and looked at him. "Don't worry, Hitsugaya-niichan! It'll be fun, you'll see! There's lots of stuff to do there. I'll show you."

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. "...I'm not your 'niichan,' and it's _not _fair to use that against me..." he muttered under his breath.

And it _wasn't _fair. She called him that with such sincerity that his conscience wouldn't let him defy her whenever she used it. She honestly considered Hitsugaya a part of her family, for some reason or another, and that was a responsibility that he, as much as he'd have liked to, couldn't ignore.

When they finally reached the campsite two agonizing hours later, Hitsugaya immediately leapt out of the car and walked off to find a bathroom. Not because he needed to use it, but because Yuzu and Matsumoto couldn't follow him in there.

...Well, okay. He had his doubts about his vice-captain. She had _no _sense of modesty.

When he came back, he assisted in setting up camp (albeit with about as much enthusiasm as a dead crab). Ichigo gathered wood for the fire, Isshin picked out food from the ice chests for their dinner, and Matsumoto talked with the girls.

_Rukia should be here, _Hitsugaya thought with a scowl. _She's a part of this psychological bear-trap too. Where the hell _is _she, anyway?_

He was thrown out of his thoughts when Isshin and Ichigo began arguing about who should chop the wood. Ichigo maintained that he had gone out and found it; Isshin should do the chopping. Isshin argued that Ichigo had done next to nothing to prepare for the trip, and needed to contribute.

The argument soon came to blows, as it often did with those two, and Hitsugaya soon grew annoyed with it. He got up out of the lawn chair he had claimed as his own, grabbed the axe, and went over to the pile.

He lost himself in the task of chopping the logs into shape for the fire pit. He put all his pent-up frustration into it. It felt good. The physical exertion took his mind off the fact that he was going to _hate _the next few days. He supposed it wasn't so much the camping itself that was the problem...but the various activities listed out in the A.K.C.T. pamphlet that Isshin would no doubt force him into and that he wouldn't be able to back out of because The Evil Ones wouldn't let him.

He soon began working up a sweat (Ichigo had gathered enough wood to last them the entire trip, and it was tough to chop through), and decided to remove his coat and shirt so as not to get them any dirtier than they already were.

He didn't notice that Isshin and Ichigo had stopped arguing, or that Matsumoto was watching him rather intently. He didn't hear Karin comment on how muscular he was for his age, nor did he hear his vice-captain's decidedly pleased agreement on the point.

He just concentrated on his job.

To make it easier and more entertaining, he pretended that each log was Aizen's head, and each time the blade fell it made his sadistic side grin with pleasure. Sometimes he would change things up and substitute Aizen for Tousen or one of the arrancar.

By the time he finished, all the wood was chopped, his body was covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, and his hands ached. He groaned as he stretched, ran an arm over his forehead, and sat back down.

"Uh...thanks?" Isshin said, a confused expression on his face.

"Yeah, Hitsugaya...uh...thanks," Ichigo added. "You, uh...didn't have to do that, ya know."

Hitsugaya shrugged. "Figured I'd speed things along."

It was then that he noticed the other three pairs of eyes on him.

"...What?"

"Do you...work out or something?" Karin wondered.

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow. "Something," he said. "Why?"

"I've never seen a kid with muscles like that," Yuzu said.

"You look good like that, Taichou," Matsumoto said with a wink. "Never realized you were so...developed."

Hitsugaya looked down at himself. "It's not exactly impressive, you know," he said. "It's not like I'm...buff or something."

"Works for me," Matsumoto said, grinning.

The boy captain's eyes widened slightly. "What...did you just...?"

Matsumoto didn't answer, but the grin stayed on her face.

_"Ooooh..."_ Yuzu said, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Uh-oh..."

Isshin, on the same wavelength as his daughter, chuckled and flashed Hitsugaya a thumbs-up.

Ichigo groaned and rolled his eyes. "You two _just _realized this?"

"Yeah," Karin added with a nod. "Took you guys long enough. It's pretty obvious."

"Hey!" Hitsugaya snapped. "Enough of the commentary on my love life, thank you!"

"Your..._what_, Taichou?"

His face turned red. "Uh...I...I mean, uh..."

He stood up and walked (too quickly) out into the trees.

"Where are you going, _Shiro-chan?" _Matsumoto called out with a laugh. "I wanna hear more about this _love life _of yours!"

"Shut up! I don't have one! You heard me wrong!"

Matsumoto's grin widened, and she glanced at the Kurosaki family. "...Thanks for inviting me, too, you guys. I think this trip is going to be a lot of fun."

The mischievous gleam in her gray eyes would have made Hitsugaya turn as white as a sheet.

**/\**

_I just got back from a camping trip on the coast, and I think all of my various stories will have a camping and/or nature theme for a while. It's fresh in my mind. Hence, I figured I'd do this. I'm not sure what exactly the genre for this one would be, but I like it. Hope you do, too._


	22. Romantic Realization

_Sorry about the wait. I've had a lot of stuff going on lately. Schoolwork's been piling up, I'm trying to find a job, and my family's a little short on money and time right now, so I've been helping out. I hope I may be forgiven._

* * *

"Oi! Hitsugaya, you in here?"

He should have figured they'd send somebody to find him at some point. One can't simply disappear into a public restroom without being found eventually.

Still, he'd hoped it wouldn't be before he managed to properly berate himself for being an idiot.

"Do you _mind?" _he snarled. "I'm a little busy here!"

"Uh-huh," Ichigo drawled, clearly annoyed and unconvinced. "Sure you are. Been busy for the past forty-five minutes. Pop thought maybe you'd been eaten by something."

"I'm not _that _stupid," Hitsugaya snapped. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Yup. Sure can. You mind telling me _why _you just ran off like that? Bathroom can't be much of a tourist attraction. What's so important here?"

"Kurosaki, just leave me alone!"

"Touchy, huh? What? Can't wipe yourself?"

"Shut up! I'm not a child!"

"Sure acting like one. What? Afraid of Matsumoto knowing you like her? I think she knows that one already. It's not a secret, Hitsugaya. Just about everyone I know who's seen you two knows it. They hound me for details, askin' how a shrimp like you got a hold of such a babe. Like I'm gonna take the time out of my day to find out crap like that."

"You won't take the time out of your day to find out about my affairs, but you're taking time out of your day to annoy me about them. Interesting."

"Well, now they directly concern me. Because you just took off, I had to go out and find your ass. Matsumoto said to leave you alone, but Pop 'n Yuzu were so damn insistent it just got to be less of a headache to do it. You gonna come back now?"

"I'd rather not. It's quiet in here, which is less than I can say for back there. Your father has a terrible habit of doing things he _cannot _do...like singing."

"Don't need to tell _me _that. Known it for years. Now c'mon, damn it."

"I'm not going to argue with you."

"You're acting like a baby, Hitsugaya."

"You can insult me all you want."

"Fine, whatever. I'll just tell Yuzu she was right. Hitsugaya-niichan hates her. That's why he left."

The door to the stall was kicked open.

Glaring hotly at Ichigo's indifferent face, Hitsugaya scowled. "...I hate you, Kurosaki."

"Good for you."

"You know, it's not right to use your sister against me. Bad enough that _she _does it."

"Hey, it works. 'Sides, it ain't my fault you're such a sap that you can't do anything that'd make Yuzu sad."

"Dear Kettle," Hitsugaya said sarcastically as he pushed past Ichigo and left the restroom, "it's me, the Pot. I don't know how to tell you this, but there's something about your current hue that...well, bothers me."

"Ha, ha," Ichigo muttered. "Face it, man. You avoid my house 'cuz you don't wanna see her. If you do, she'll want you to join in on whatever game she's playing and you won't be able to say no."

"It's _really _becoming an issue, this color of yours," Hitsugaya said. "It hurts my eyes."

"And I don't get your...thing with Matsumoto, either. I mean, hell, she _is _hot. And she was just about drooling back there. Make a damn move, you idiot."

"I _do_ hope you aren't upset, Kettle. It's not that I don't want to be friends, it's just..."

"Okay, I get the Yuzu thing, but what the _hell _are you talking about _now?"_

"I don't know," Hitsugaya said. "Why don't you ask Rukia? Or Inoue? They might know."

"What the holy f--wait. _What?"_

"You _just _realized this? Took you long enough."

Hitsugaya smirked as realization dawned on the young shinigami's face.

Ichigo turned around.

_"_Where are _you _going?"

"...Bathroom."

* * *

_If Ichigo and Hitsugaya seem overly OOC...I apologize. It's been a while. Hope you enjoyed it, anyway. Ja ne, all._


	23. Out in the Open

_Sorry about taking so long to update, but December was not an easy month for me. I had almost no time on my hands to sit down and think about, much less write, this story. Or...collection, as it were. School's starting this coming Tuesday, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, but hopefully it'll be soon. Maybe I should start writing short ones again. Well, enough of my excuses. Enjoy._

* * *

"Matsu...er, I mean...Rangiku."

A deceptively delicate eyebrow rose slowly over one gray eye. "Yes?"

Hitsugaya drew in a deep, calming breath. This was absolutely ridiculous. How hard could it be to tell someone something they obviously already knew?

Judging by the knot in his stomach and the way his hands were beginning to shake, he thought it must be pretty damned hard.

He wished some hotheaded, overzealous arrancar would leap out into the site and declare war on them. He was suited to battle. Fighting was something Hitsugaya could understand, something he could deal with.

This was not.

He hadn't felt this nervous since his first day as a captain.

"...Do you...remember when we met, Rangiku?" he asked finally, completely unsure as to where he was leading the conversation.

"How could I forget?" she replied, smiling. "You were the most pleasant surprise I'd ever had."

"...Really?"

"Sure. I'd thought...no. I'd been _sure _that Kazuhiko-taichou had been replaced by some other hot-blooded, empty-headed old man who'd wanted the position of captain for the real estate, or maybe because they'd heard stories about my...talents."

She said the word with particular distaste, and Hitsugaya's face twitched. He scowled.

"Talents?" he repeated.

"Kazuhiko-taichou liked to...make up stories."

"What kinds of 'stories?'" he demanded.

Matsumoto seemed taken aback by the question, and by the particularly venomous tone with which it had been asked. Her eyes widened slightly.

"W-Well, Taichou...it was the general consensus among the Gotei 13, at the time of my instatement, that I was accepted for...less than honorable reasons."

Eyes narrowing, Hitsugaya made a note to investigate the matter further when he made it back to Soul Society. "I see...and where did that consensus come from?"

"Not from me, certainly!" Matsumoto said, somewhat defensively.

Realizing how the question must have sounded, Hitsugaya held up a hand. "I-I didn't mean it that way...I meant...who would make up such stupid rumors?"

"I don't remember now, actually."

Another matter to look into.

"Anyway, Kazuhiko-taichou decided to enlist me because of my looks and thought, because of the stories that had been spread about me, he could...well, coerce me into his bed."

The first question that rose in the boy captain's mind was, "Did you?" but he'd already asked one bad question. He didn't intend to ask another.

"Even though I never did, I thought of it as a game more than anything and I was determined to win, he liked to tell the other captains that I had. Actually, he liked to tell everybody he came across that I had. I always felt sympathy for Nanao because of that. But I always thought, 'At least Kyouraku-taichou doesn't lie about it.'

"When Kazuhiko-taichou died, and you took his place, I was positive that I'd end up with another captain just like him. When I saw you, though...well, I think we both remember _that."_

Hitsugaya chuckled slightly.

"As soon as I saw you, I...I just _knew _you weren't the same. And it wasn't because of your youth, Taichou, I assure you that. I just...sensed that you had more honor in you than that."

He blushed now. "...Thank you."

"And I was right. You've never tried to take advantage of me. Ever. Aside from the occasional joke regarding my ability to _walk upright_..."

He smirked. He remembered that.

"...You've never mentioned my...particular assets. You treated me like a person instead of a trophy."

"You _are _a person. One worthy of far more respect than my predecessor evidently thought."

"He wasn't _all _bad, you know."

"Still doesn't sound like I'd have...gotten along with him."

"Oh, I doubt it."

"A shame he's dead...I'd have liked to...discuss some of these things with him."

Matsumoto's lips twitched upward in a playful, and slightly sadistic, smile. "...Feeling possessive, Taichou?"

Hitsugaya's eyes widened to saucers. "What?! No! I mean...I just...it's beneath a captain to spread such...such _stupid _stories! To lie about whether or not you...you...!"

The smile widened into a full-blown smirk. "I don't think the fact that it's 'beneath a captain' is what's bothering you."

"I...I...uh..."

He fidgeted, eyes averting hers.

"...It shouldn't be possible for a shinigami captain to look so damned _cute_," Matsumoto mused.

He snapped his gaze back to his vice-captain.

"D-Don't call me cute! I'm not—"

"Oh, yes, you are. It's not an insult, Taichou. It's a compliment. Why don't you just admit it? You're cute."

Hitsugaya crossed his arms. "Tch. I am not."

"Oh, like _you'd _know. It's a _girl's_ call on whether or not you're cute, Taichou. And _I _call it. So get over it."

Matsumoto stood up and sauntered over to him, leaning down so that her face was mere inches from his. "You know, Taichou, it really is a good thing when a girl calls you cute."

In response, Hitsugaya scowled.

Still smirking, Matsumoto leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed him. It was slight, just a peck on the corner of his mouth, but it was enough to cause his entire face to go bright red.

"...It means she likes you."

This time, he couldn't even find enough of his voice to stutter. He simply stared.

He remembered the few occasions that they had been intimate...well, sort of, anyway. There was the time he had been sick, the one other time that she had kissed him. There was the time she had been upset about Hinamori, and he had comforted her. There were any number of times when they had been...closer than what might have been proper.

But this...was different.

He touched the spot where her lips had been, as though unsure of whether or not it had actually happened.

Matsumoto's smirk softened.

"And I do...Toushirou."

He finally found his voice.

"I...I do...too."

* * *

Isshin and Yuzu could barely contain their giggling as they watched the scene unfolding in front of them. Karin rolled her eyes at their immaturity and looked over her shoulder as Ichigo strolled up to them, lost in thought.

"Oh, Ichi-nii, where have you _been_?" Karin muttered with a complete absence of enthusiasm. "You missed the _show_..."

"Great. Just what I'd hoped."

He pushed past his father and sister and walked into the campsite, earning him disappointed groans (that sounded eerily similar) from the two of them.

Karin followed her brother's example.

Isshin, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Yuzu, chuckled evilly as he revealed the camera he had been hiding in his coat.

"How hard do you think it'll be to get them to do that again?"

* * *

_Kazuhiko, the name I picked for Hitsugaya's predecessor, is one that I just picked randomly out of the air for another story. I decided to use it here, too. It has no special significance._


	24. Old Friends

_Think I was done? Ha! Fat chance of that. Can't go ending it that soon. No fun that way, is it? So...on with the show._

* * *

"...Why are you grinning at me like that?"

Isshin giggled boyishly. "_Hmmm...? _Oh, it's nothing. Nothing at all." He kept a straight face for an admirable four seconds before ruining any sense of validity in his statement by letting out a loud snicker.

Hitsugaya scowled.

Matsumoto had gone out to find the bathroom, and had been gone for a while, too long for it to be completely legitimate, which led her captain to believe that she was elongating the torture solely because she could.

Hitsugaya was alone with the Kurosakis.

The twitch of his left eyebrow, which was enough to send the seated members of his division off on suddenly _pressing _business and to send the unseated members running for cover with no pretense as to the reason at all, was all but a permanent feature on his face now.

Of course, the threat behind that twitch did nothing to halt Isshin's idiotically immature antics. He and Yuzu both kept making strange hand gestures and huddling together as they whispered, giggled, and glanced at him every few seconds.

Hitsugaya sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. He should have figured on this...

He wondered if Matsumoto had known they were watching.

She probably had.

_When we get back to Soul Society, I'm going to make sure you remember that I am your _commanding officer. _If it teaches you something, so much the better. If it doesn't...well, _I'll _have fun..._

He chuckled.

Patience, he told himself. Just a few more days, and _he _would be in power again. A few more days, and he would have control. A few more days...

_"Hiiiiitsu-chaaaaan!"_

...Of violently excitable pink-haired vice-captains clinging to his head?

Eyes opening in pure, unabashed disbelieve, he was greeted by the grinning, pink-cheeked, pink-headed, cherubic face of the one and only Kusajishi Yachiru.

"Y-Y...Ya...?"

"Oi!" another, decidedly less enthusiastic, thundering voice echoed. "Yachiru! The hell are you?!"

"I found him, Ken-chan! Found them all! Lookie, lookie!"

Zaraki Kenpachi's titanic form, barely fitting into the black slacks and white button-down shirt he wore, came into the campsite like a beast, his hair actually out of its usual bell-tipped spikes, hanging in clumps about his shoulders.

"Z-Zaraki! What are you two doing here?!" Hitsugaya demanded.

"You know these people, Hitsugaya-niichan?" Yuzu asked.

"Oh, crap," Ichigo muttered. "Lemme guess, Kenpachi...you want another rematch."

"Ichi!" Yachiru cried happily.

"Uh...yeah. Hi."

"You too, Ichi-nii?" Karin wondered, clearly intimidated by the huge Eleventh Division captain.

"Ain't here for a fight," Zaraki said dismissively. "Least not wi' you. Oi, Hitusgaya."

"What is it?"

"Yer vice-captain. Where's she at?"

"Uh...d'uh...Rangiku went to the bathroom. Why?"

Zaraki's mouth twisted in an odd expression at Hitsugaya's use of the name "Rangiku." Then he shrugged it off as unimportant.

Yachiru jumped down onto Hitsugaya's lap and giggled excitedly. "Hide and seek! Hide and seek!" She turned around. "Ken-chan, let's go! We're it! Got to go seeking! Let's go find—"

"Yachiru."

The tone of Zaraki's voice instantly quieted the petite shinigami, and Hitsugaya couldn't help but be nervous. The look on the gargantuan captain's face was dead cold serious, with none of its usual hot-blooded sadism.

"Why?" Hitsugaya asked, almost demanded.

"Call from home," Zaraki growled. "Yachiru wanted t' help. I came t' make sure she don't get her fool ass killed. Ain't no fuckin' game this time..."

"Killed...? What...what's going...?"

Zaraki's single visible eye narrowed. "Somebody else's here...an' he ain't lookin' t' share yer campfire..."

* * *

In truth, Matsumoto hadn't stayed in the bathroom to purposefully extend her captain's torment. The white-haired boy's admission earlier had put her in a _very _good mood, and thus she was feeling particularly giving.

Couldn't leave her new boyfriend all alone against the destructive forces of Isshin and Yuzu, could she?

Of course, she knew it was a little early to be thinking along those lines...but hey, things were heading in that direction now, weren't they?

She laughed happily.

This trip was _so _much fun.

Little did she know...that was about to change.

The delighted grin that had been on her face for the past twenty minutes dropped almost instantly. Her face went pale, her eyes going wide. She stumbled backward, struggling to find her voice as she stuttered incoherently.

Unlike her captain, her tongue wasn't tied by embarrassment.

"...Aw...nice seein' you, too..."

She couldn't breathe.

"Always did like nature, didn'tcha? Bet yer havin' fun, huh...Rangiku-chan?"


	25. Snake in the Grass

**_Once this "arc" is finished, I'm probably going to go back to the bits and pieces strategy. I don't know. Anyway, here's the next installment of my little Camping story._**

* * *

He stepped out into the light of the moon and stopped, his stance easy, calm, as though his being there were the most normal thing in the world. His head tilted, that quirky, gleeful, almost demonic grin of his making Matsumoto feel as though she were facing a predator rather than the man she had once called her best friend.

She had to remind herself that he _was_ a predator now.

The former Third Division captain chuckled. "Nice night, eh? All 'a stars're out...'member when we'd try'n find constellations in the stars at night, Rangiku-chan?" He laughed, and that laugh sent a shiver down Matsumoto's spine. "Dog wi' a snake for 'is tail. Teapot wi' legs balancin' on a rope. Li'l kitten eatin' a sandwich. Y'always came up wi' int'ristin' things, Rangiku-chan. Never could see half of 'em."

Matsumoto struggled mightily to keep her face impassive, tried with all her strength to not break into a run like a frightened rabbit.

Gin's perpetually closed (or were they?) eyes cracked open a bit. "...D'you just make stuff up t' make me look all serious f' shapes 'at weren't there, Rangiku-chan?"

He waited as if expecting her to answer, and while she struggled to say _something_ – what that something was, she didn't know – her mouth wouldn't form the words. Her _brain _wouldn't form the words.

"S'okay, Rangiku-chan. I don' bite, ya know. See somethin' up there now?" He glanced up at the sky. "Think I see me a dragon up there. A li'l one. An' he's _angry..."_

He stepped backward smoothly, and had Shinsou in hand and up immediately to block Hyourinmaru's initial strike. Hitsugaya leapt to the side, readying himself again.

"...Quite an imagination," he said quietly, green eyes blazing.

Gin chuckled. "Hiya, 'Gaya..."

"Didn't think I'd see you again so soon..."

"Jus' thought I'd check in. How ya been?"

"Can't complain."

The clash of steel was as sudden and shocking as a bolt of lightning, making Matsumoto stumble backward a bit in her surprise.

Right into another person.

"...Watch yer step."

"Z-Zaraki? What the...?"

The huge captain, hair down for once, looked down at her, then back up at Gin and Hitsugaya. He said nothing for a long moment. Then,  
finally...

"Kid's got skill."

Matsumoto turned her head back to look at the ensuing duel. Gin's face showed no outward change, although it was clear that he was far more focused than he had been when speaking to her. Her captain's face, however, was fixed in a grim scowl.

Hyourinmaru and Shinsou, extensions of their masters' murderous intent, screamed as they met, again and again, twin serpents dancing in the cool night air.

Hitsugaya fell to the side, rolling out of Shinsou's reach and bouncing back up almost instantly, sending Hyourinmaru in a wide arc that nearly caught the exiled captain on his left side.

Gin, still grinning, danced nimbly out of the way and his sword went flying.

Hitsugaya leapt upward, landing lightly in Shinsou's stretched blade, launching himself forward as the very air about him froze in blinding crystals of blistering cold.

Gin suddenly vanished, appearing again on the outskirts of the impromptu arena, his grin now gone. Matsumoto blanched, the sight of her old friend's face so alien and outright terrifying that she almost turned and ran again.

"Is this the best you can do?" Gin demanded, his voice a crack of thunder, just as alien as his expression. "Is this all you've done to train?"

Hitsugaya stood straight, fist tightening around Hyourinmaru's hilt. He said nothing.

Gin stalked forward, anger falling off of him in almost tangible waves. "Huh? Is _this_ Hitsugaya Toushirou's strength? Is _this _how you protect her?"

Matsumoto flinched.

"...Do not deign to look down on me, Ichimaru..." Hitsugaya hissed. "Do not assume you've a right to tell me how to protect Rangiku...you who has turned his back on her."

"Aizen is her enemy, Hitsugaya-taichou...you had better strengthen yourself. If you can't defeat _me,_ you don't stand a chance in hell at _touching_ him."

Gin's voice was now deadly serious, devoid of his usual drawl, cold and sharp. Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You're gloating prematurely, Ichimaru. I have yet to lose."

Gin took a step back, crouching. "...Then show me."

The boy captain took a deep breath, darted his eyes toward Matsumoto's for just a split second (she saw it, but barely), and tightened his grip on Hyourinmaru.

"...Ban...kai."

The world froze.


	26. Quite Nice

_**Before I start this, I want to thank xtranew again for the amazing fan art.**_

_**I love it.**_

_**This one's for you; the latest installment of the "Camping with the Kurosakis" arc.**_

* * *

She sat on her bed, staring out the single window, about as coherent as she had been weeks before, lying on that same bed in a coma.

For all intents and purposes, Hinamori Momo was dead to the world...both worlds.

She watched the moon, but didn't see it. She heard the wind, but didn't listen. She knew a blanket covered her, but didn't feel it.

She was numb.

_Enlighten me, Hinamori Momo, as to why you get a second chance after spitting in his face, trusting a man you barely knew over a friend you've had for years. Enlighten me as to why you can get away with trying to kill him without any repercussions at all!_

The words of her fellow vice-captain rang in Hinamori's ears, echoing in her head no matter what she did, no matter where she went. Since that day, that fateful day, she hadn't been able to think of anything else.

She hadn't the strength to even _think _of talking to either of them about it.

She didn't dare.

She looked up at the single shelf in the room, at the thing Matsumoto had given to her as a gift, before she had even regained consciousness.

There had been a small note with it.

_Taichou says this has no place in our headquarters, and that it distracts me too often from my work. I figured you would like it._

Looking at that note now, she could feel the lack of feeling, the lack of compassion, in it. Matsumoto hadn't given it to _her _because of any desire to make her happy; it had likely been because Hinamori's room was the first place where she had been able to drop the thing off.

Still, Hinamori had been touched and delighted with the gift, this thing from the living world apparently called a "CD player," as she'd been told by Unohana, who was quite knowledgeable about such things.

One learned a lot in a hospital.

Upon figuring out how to work the device, however, she had been assaulted by a cacophony of screeching sounds that she couldn't even begin to understand, that sounded to her like a hollow ravaging an entire village, and she couldn't for the life of her understand who could consider this music.

Thinking back, she thought Matsumoto had picked that music either because _she _did or, more likely, she had known Hinamori wouldn't.

What hurt so much about that realization was that she now, finally, realized just how much she deserved such treatment.

She shook her head, banishing such self-pitying thoughts.

She couldn't think like that. It would just cause more animosity, and for no good reason.

She had taken to turning the music on lately, even though it was terrible, just for something to take her mind off the silence, to try to take her mind away from what she had done, and what it had taken to make her understand it.

It made her want to cry.

...No.

She hardened her resolve, squinting her eyes, clenching her fists.

No more crying.

No more weakness.

She was a vice-captain! A vice-captain in a division with no captain! She couldn't afford to do this...not anymore.

Enough self-pity.

_If I ever hope for Shiro-ch-Hitsugaya-taichou to look at me again, I can't do this. All I'm doing is hurting him. No more. I hurt him badly enough once...twice...I...stupid, stupid! Asking him to...!_

She shot to her feet, shaking her head in frustration.

_Idiot!_

Everything she had been thinking, sulking over, everything she had been beating herself over the head with, finally came to the surface of her mind, and she realized it...just how stupid she was.

Hitsugaya had once brooded on the fact that, due to his pushing her away, Hinamori had replaced him with Aizen. He had once berated himself for letting her go, for letting someone else take his place.

But it had been she, not he, to push away. She, Hinamori Momo, had actually thrown away a friendship with the single greatest man ever to grace Soul Society...to become a slave to the single worst.

She had to admit that. First...that the Aizen Sousuke she had known, loved, and worshipped...was fake. Had used her.

Second...that she had committed an irrevocable betrayal to Hitsugaya by taking to that fake rather than him.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

She had to move on with this.

She had to do her duty.

She had to show Hitsugaya Toushirou that she wasn't going to hurt him anymore.

She stood up, straightened her uniform, and stepped out into the hallway, bound and determined to start over.

And nearly crashed into a panicked, hyperventilating Kira Izuru.

"Hinamori!" he cried. "Oh, thank the spirits you're awake! Hurry!"

"W-Wha...Kira-kun, what's going on? What is it?"

The look on the vice-captain's face was enough to drain her newfound courage and conviction.

"Y-Y-You know that...Hitsugaya-taichou and Matsumoto-fukutaichou left for a vacation in the living world, right?"

"Yes. I heard."

"It's...it's..."

"What? What is it?" Hinamori asked, now nearly frightened out of her mind.

"I-It's Ichimaru-taichou! He...he's come back! And...and...!"

She understood.

Her heart nearly stopped.

"Oh, God..."

They both ran as quickly as possible.

* * *

"Aizen-sama."

Raising an eyebrow, the former captain of the Fifth Division regarded his subordinate with a mildly interested expression. "Have you something to report, Tousen?"

"Ichimaru has been found, Aizen-sama."

"Is that right...? And what is he doing?"

"It seems that he is currently doing battle with Hitsugaya Toushirou."

Aizen Sousuke rose slightly in his seat. "Is he, now?"

"Yes. Zaraki Kenpachi, Kusajishi Yachiru, Matsumoto Rangiku, and Kurosaki Ichigo are nearby as well."

"Nearby."

"They are watching, Aizen-sama."

Aizen frowned thoughtfully at this. "Hmmm...I wonder what it is that my adjutant is planning..."

"Aizen-sama!"

The two shinigami glanced at the arrancar that rushed into the room and hurriedly dropped to his knees.

"Hm?"

"We have just received word that Kira Izuru and Hinamori Momo have entered the living world, and are currently on a course for Ichimaru-sama!"

"...Quite the gathering," Aizen noted.

"So it seems," Tousen agreed.

He stood.

"Aizen-sama?" Tousen asked, clearly confused.

"I believe I'll have a closer look at this."

The blind shinigami seemed surprised at this.

"...It seems Hinamori-kun is well again. I should say hello."

Tousen let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head.

Aizen smiled serenely.

"It will be nice to see her again, I think."

Yes...quite nice.

* * *

_**(1) **_**_These lyrics are from the song, "The Game," by Disturbed, one of the greatest rock bands on the face of the earth._**

**_I'm not entirely sure why I decided to attempt to redeem Hinamori, but I did. Maybe it's because I don't feel Kubo-sama is going to bother with it any time soon, so it's up to us. I'm not entirely certain where this will lead, although I've a bit of an idea._**

**_And rest assured, ye faithful readers, that regardless of what may or may not happen in the future of this series regarding Hinamori, it will not change the developments between Hitsugaya and Matsumoto in the slightest. I'm not about to jump ship, so to speak. _**

**_Hope you enjoyed this despite the fact that I've ended on yet another cliffhanger._**

**_I've a feeling this section of the story will end next chapter._**

_**But that doesn't mean I'm done with this. No way. Far too much fun.**_

_**'Til next time, all.**_


	27. Unexpected

**_This chapter goes out to the great people at FanLib, who invited me into their community and allowed me to finally make money by writing. Sure, it was a contest, but I still count it as a first paycheck._**

**_It's open to the public now, so go take a look at www (dot) fanlib (dot) com. I have a few of these up there, but there're also plenty of one-shots from other fandoms, too, as well as some Bleach fics that wouldn't fit into this collection._**

**_Okay, enough advertising. That's not what you've been waiting for, is it?_**

**_Here it is. The grand conclusion to the "Camping With the Kurosakis" arc._**

**_Have fun._**

* * *

One thought dominated his mind as the fight continued, as his muscles screamed and his blood flooded through his veins with all the intensity of a crimson hurricane and he thought he might explode. 

Ichimaru was playing with him.

The thought made Hitsugaya want to scream, made him want to shove his fist right through the man's teeth, made him want to grip his former colleague by the throat and choke the life right out of him, the cocky son of a _bitch!_

This was a _game _to him!!

And then, it dawned on him that it was a very, _very _good thing that he was, just at the time when Matsumoto cried out to him.

"Taichou! Permission has been granted!"

And he realized not only _why _Ichimaru was playing with him, wasn't going at him full-force, but why he should fall to his knees and thank every god in existence that he was.

He couldn't _believe _he'd forgotten!

Ichimaru Gin was no longer bound to Soul Society's regulations.

Whereas _he_ was.

He'd been going after one of the strongest men in Soul Society's history with about as much power as a damned gnat!

He was an _idiot!_

"...Lift the limit!!" he screamed.

The very world seemed to explode around him.

Ichimaru's eyes were open, and they gleamed dangerously. The entirety of existence only contained the two of them, and looking into those bloodstained, psychopathic eyes, Hitsugaya thought he must be looking into the face of the devil.

"..._Show _me, Hitsugaya Toushirou..." he hissed hungrily, crazily. "_Show me!!"_

Frozen fists tightening around his sword to the point that they hurt, Hitsugaya prepared himself for what, he knew, could very well be his death.

_"Unare, Haineko!!"_

Blocking his view of his opponent, Hitsugaya watched, mesmerized, as a wall of ash flowed like gray water between himself and Ichimaru.

Matsumoto stood beside her captain, arms crossed, gray eyes blazing.

"...While I appreciate your misguided concern for me, Gin, I'm not in need of a knight in shining armor to _protect _me. So I hope you don't mind if I step in now. You _are _harassing _my _captain, you know."

Ash and ice coalesced in the thick, cold air, bent upon a single target.

Ichimaru watched, fascinated.

And disappeared.

Hitsugaya sprang forward, spinning tightly, as the silver-haired shinigami flew toward him.

"Have it your way!!" he snarled.

Shinsou reared its head, poised to strike.

_"Omote o agero, Wabisuke!"_

Ichimaru actually seemed confused when his blade met resistance. He turned to idly regard his interrupter, all anger and malice dropping from his demeanor.

"Eh?" he asked.

Kira Izuru, lifting his square-hooked zanpakutou toward his former commander, scowled murderously. "...I cannot allow this."

"Big words, Izuru," Ichimaru commented.

Hitsugaya and Matsumoto both stared at the blonde in shock.

"What the...?" Hitsugaya breathed.

_"Hajike, Tobiume!"_

Ichimaru stumbled back, barely missing the blazing pink orb of energy that suddenly shot toward him.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened to saucers. His face went pale.

Matsumoto blinked.

Hinamori Momo dropped from atop a tree and landed in front of Hitsugaya's stunned, prone form. She glanced back at him, but only for a moment.

"...Hinamori-chan, huh? S'prise seein' _you _here..."

Hinamori didn't answer.

"Oi. Ichimaru. Bit outmatched now, aren't ya?"

Zaraki walked slowly forward.

"Don't hurt Hitsu-chan!" Yachiru admonished.

"Not that I particularly like this place," Ichigo added, "but this _is _a family outing you're interrupting."

Ichimaru frowned thoughtfully, lowering Shinsou to his side. All the fight seemed to have gone out of him as he looked at the seven shinigami all more than willing to kill him.

Four vice-captain class and three captain class...

The odds were certainly stacked against him now.

The grin returned.

"Well, well, well...Guess I oughtta be flattered, huh? All you t' kill li'l ole me...wow."

Hitsugaya scowled. "Tch."

Zaraki crossed his arms. "Don't flatter yerself, Ichimaru. Don' need all of us to break you in half."

"Ain't you gettin' a li'l cocky, there, _Ken-chan?"_

Zaraki scowled. "Ain't _you?"_

"Sorry," Kira said, "but Hitsugaya-taichou is too busy to be spending time in the infirmary. Soul Society is rather _short-staffed _at the moment."

Ichimaru either didn't catch the sarcasm or, most likely, didn't care. His face remained the same as always.

"We won't let you hurt Hitsu-chan!" Yachiru repeated.

"Yuzu'd never forgive me if I let 'Hitsugaya-niichan' get hurt," Ichigo said.

"I've hurt him – both of them – enough," Hinamori said harshly. "I refuse to let it happen again."

"You always were a compassionate soul..."

Even Ichimaru took a sharp breath at the sound of that voice.

Aizen Sousuke strolled slowly, serenely, into the clearing.

"So, Gin..._this _is where you've been."

"Thought I'd take a bit of a stroll," Ichimaru said.

"Hmmm..."

"A-Aizen...-taichou..." Hinamori gasped.

"Aizen..." Hitsugaya hissed.

"Hmmm...that _is _my name, ironically enough," Aizen said.

"Oh, crap," Ichigo breathed.

"Don't worry," Aizen said with a smile. "I don't intend to fight. I'm rather tired, you see. Up all night. I simply wanted to see what Gin was doing with his time. When I discovered the congregation taking place here, I simply _had _to stop in and say hello."

Zaraki's scowl deepened. "Oi. Cut the shit, Aizen."

"Ah, Zaraki. Lovely to see you again. I see Yachiru is still doing well. How are you, little one?"

Yachiru glared at the man. She said nothing.

Aizen shrugged. "Very well. I can see that not everyone appreciates my choices as of late."

He glanced at Matsumoto. "Dear Rangiku...how chivalric of you, defending your captain. I do believe you have it a bit backwards, however."

Matsumoto's expression didn't change. She did, however, step closer to Hitsugaya. "...My life before his," she said.

"How noble. I'm touched, honestly."

"Fuck you."

Aizen chuckled. "I see you still haven't taught her proper protocol, Hitsugaya-kun. Tsk, tsk."

"...Fuck you."

He chuckled. "I see."

"Aizen-taichou," Ichimaru said. "Shouldn'tcha say hello?"

He gestured.

Aizen glanced over at Hinamori. "Hinamori-kun. How lovely to see you well. I was worried about you, my dear."

"A-A-Aizen...?"

"Still."

The small girl was sweating, her face pale, and her mouth kept opening and closing as she strained to find words, but couldn't.

Aizen frowned thoughtfully. "...I _have _missed you, Hinamori-kun...it's dreadfully lonely in Hueco Mundo, if you could believe it. What would you say if I told you that I had a space open in my ranks...? Would you be interested?"

Ichimaru raised an eyebrow.

Hinamori began to shake. "A-Aizen-taichou..."

"Come, Hinamori-kun. Join me, and I promise you that nothing, and no one, will ever hurt you again. You'll have everything you could ever ask for. You'll be the queen of a new world, a fresh world, birthed in the womb of change. Doesn't that sound nice? I know you always hated people who hurt those smaller than they...those who prey upon the weak...we could get rid of them, you and I. Together."

She looked about to cry.

She took a wary, wary step forward.

* * *

She would go to him. 

She _had _to.

Matsumoto couldn't fathom any possible reason why she _wouldn't. _If there was _one _person Aizen Sousuke had completely under his thumb, it was Hinamori Momo. If _one _person would be taken in by his flowery, smooth-as-silk lies, it would be Hinamori Momo.

She stole a glance at Hitsugaya, who would have looked frozen, emotionless, to almost anyone. But she saw it. The agony behind his icy green eyes, the way his fists clenched, the way the ice coating his body trembled ever so slightly...

Damn it...

_Why does he have to see this...?_

What had he done? What had Hitsugaya ever done, in this life or any past life, to deserve this? To have his heart broken twice? It wasn't fair...

She recalled how he had died. He had told her once, and she still remembered. Every word. Why, after going through _that_, had he been subjected to such...to such...?

Hinamori was walking slowly...so slowly...toward her former captain.

Aizen smiled serenely, looking every bit the doting father, and held out his arms as if to embrace her.

She stopped.

"Aizen...Sousuke..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

She sheathed her zanpakutou...

...And slapped Aizen across the face.

"I've hurt Hitsugaya Toushirou too much already. I _will not _betray him again. Kill me if you want; I can't stand up to you. But I will die by _his _side...not yours."

* * *

Aizen's expression didn't change. 

He simply chuckled again, idly rubbing his face where his former adjutant had struck him, and glanced at Ichimaru. "...Let's go, Gin, shall we?"

"Hm? Already, Aizen-taichou? Aww...things was jus' startin' t' get int'restin'..."

"I've come for what I wanted to see...no need to waste our energy needlessly."

Ichimaru shrugged. "Fair 'nuff. Well, tha's okay. It was fun, 'Gaya. Did pretty good. Shame we couldn't go all out, huh? Interruptions all over the place."

Hitsugaya said nothing.

"...Nice seein' ya 'gain, Izuru. Nice hit. Gettin' better."

The pair of rogue shinigami turned and walked away.

* * *

"Fuckin' zoo..." Ichigo muttered as he walked back to the campsite. "Oi! Toushirou! Get yer ass back to camp soon, huh? Yuzu's worried!" 

"Of course."

Nodding, he left.

The threat ended, for now, Zaraki, Yachiru, and Kira had departed for Soul Society, counting their lucky stars that Aizen had been in a peaceable (or, rather, playful) mood and hadn't obliterated them.

Hinamori stayed behind.

"...I'll go back to camp," Matsumoto said.

"No," Hitsugaya said, and grabbed her arm. "Stay, Rangiku."

She blinked.

She turned back around. "...Okay."

He didn't let go of her arm.

Hinamori sniffed, tapped the ground with her foot, and sighed heavily. "I...I don't know what to say...I don't have anything I could possibly say or do that could make up for...for what I did. For how stupid I've been...for how much I hurt you both..."

She looked up, and there were no tears there.

"I don't expect forgiveness. I don't deserve forgiveness. I don't _want _forgiveness. I just want you to know that I'll never hurt you again."

Hitsugaya's face was blank.

"...Hinamori..."

She bowed. "Now that there's no threat anymore, I'll leave you to your vacation, Hitsugaya-taichou. I apologize for the horrible reputation my division now has due to its captain's actions. I want you to know that I will do my best to correct it."

Hitsugaya was silent for a long moment.

...Then he smiled. "I'm pleased to hear that, Hinamori-fukutaichou. We'll be back in Soul Society within the week. Do inform Yamamoto-soutaichou that the situation is now under control."

"Of course, Hitsugaya-taichou."

She bowed again.

Turned around and left.

* * *

"Fukutaichou." 

Matsumoto stiffened at the powerful, authoritative tone. She turned and frowned, confused. "...Y-Yes, Taichou?"

Eyes blazing, with a dangerous scowl on his face, Hitsugaya gripped his vice-captain's scarf and pulled her down so that her face was level with his.

"This is an order. I expect no argument. Is that understood?"

"...Yes?"

"You...Matsumoto Rangiku...are _never _allowed out of my sight again."

"I...I-I...Taichou...what are you—"

He kissed her.

Matsumoto's eyes widened to saucers.

This was nothing like the few times they had kissed before. This was no peck on the cheek, or the side of the mouth, or the forehead...this was...it was...

Her eyes closed, and she wrapped her arms around her captain's shoulders.

His reached around her waist, and pulled her closer to him.

Any thoughts of the past few hours flew out of their heads.

Any thoughts at _all _flew out of their heads.

They cared only for the moment.

They cared only for each other.

And that was more than enough.


	28. Sometimes it Pays Not to Fight

_**I'm glad to see everyone liked my conclusion to the Camping arc. I did, too. It was fun.**_

_**This idea came to me suddenly, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto don't take center stage in this one, although they do have a part. I like how this turned out, and the possibilities set forth by this chapter are quite vast, I think.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

_**Oh, yeah. There's quite a bit of swearing in this one, thanks to an intoxicated Ikkaku and an irritated Zaraki. **_

* * *

"_**WHAAAAT!!!?!"**_

**_"Shut up!!" _**Zaraki snarled and threw his empty bottle of liquor at the bald shinigami. "Frickin' retard!! I got a goddamn hangover an' I don't need you screamin' bloody murder in my office!"

Ikkaku pitched himself to the side, barely missing the glass projectile, and threw himself back up onto his feet. "B-B-But...Zaraki-taichou! I ain't...I ain't gonna...!!"

"Tch..." Zaraki growled with irritation. "Look, you bald fuckin' idiot...Yumichika tol' me 'bout that stupid-ass _vow_ you made. The hell's your problem? Huh? You think I give a shit 'bout yer numb-fuck 'xpression a' loyalty?"

"Don't matter," Ikkaku said. "Was a promise I made t' myself, Taichou, an' I ain't gonna go breakin' it just 'cuz—"

"_Look_, Ikkaku. Don't think you get it. This place's frickin' useless right now. Everything's all screwed up 'n if we wanna stay here, we gotta pull our weight 'n make it right again. Now I dunno 'bout _your _stupid ass, but _I _don't intend t' leave! Man up 'n fuckin' do your part, asshole! Ya got yer fuckin' _bankai, _f' God's sake!!"

Ikkaku's eyes widened. "What the...how the f...!"

"Tch." Zaraki rolled his eye and leaned back in his chair. "Don't matter _how_ I know, jackass. Point is, I do. N' Old Man Yamamoto knows too. Been pesterin' me all frickin' week t' 'let you go,' like I'm fightin' t' fuckin' _keep _you. Face it. They're fuckin' dyin' over there. Damn weak-ass punks could use you two. More 'n me. Gettin' too damn annoying."

"Z-Zaraki-taichou...this ain't...ain't like...I mean...I already told Renji that..."

"I look like I care a flyin' fuck _what _you told Renji?! Ain't frickin' Renji what told me. Y'oughtta take care who's around if ya don' wan' people knowin' somethin'. Gotta bone t' pick wi' somebody? Talk t' Matsumoto."

"...Matsumoto...? S-_She _told...!"

"Quit whinin', Ikkaku. Go talk t' her if ya gotta. Don't jus' stand there lookin' stupid."

Ikkaku growled, eyebrow twitching, and whirled on his heel. He stalked out of the office.

Zaraki rolled his eye again. "...Fuckin' drunk-ass moron."

* * *

Matsumoto looked up, a blank expression on her face, when Ikkaku burst into the office.

"Ikkaku?" she asked, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. "Something you need?"

Ikkaku's jaw cracked audibly as he flexed, spread in a grin that was one part manic and two parts sadism. "Oi...Matsumoto-fukutaichou..." he hissed through clenched teeth.

Matsumoto blinked. "...Yes? What is it?"

There was an aura of murderous intent rolling off of the third-seat shinigami as he stepped, ever so slowly, toward Matsumoto's desk. One hand clenched his zanpakutou with such force that the veins bulged and the knuckles were white.

"I hear...you _told _Zaraki-taichou...something...something that was _not _supposed to be told...to _anyone!!"_

Matsumoto sighed. "Well, Ikkaku, excuse me for not reading your mind, but I thought _you _of all people, prancing around proclaiming your strength and picking fights with everyone, would _want _Soul Society knowing that you had achieved bankai. It would cause stronger opponents to come challenging you...wouldn't it?"

"_Idiot!!" _Ikkaku screamed. "Do you know what the fuck that _means?! _Everybody goddamn knows that I got bankai, and now they'll be pesterin' me all over the goddamn place!! I _ain't _leavin', and now you made it ten _fuckin' _times harder!!"

Matsumoto shook her head. "...Foolish. Who _wouldn't _want the opportunity to—"

"Would _you?!" _Ikkaku shouted.

"...Huh?"

"Would _you _leave, if somebody offered you a new position!!"

"Would I...? No. No, I wouldn't."

"_See?! _Then why the _hell'd _you tell every _fuckin' _body that I—"

"Ikkaku, stop shouting."

Mouth twisted in a scowl of incomprehensible rage, Ikkaku growled. "...'F you understand...why'd you tell? Huh?"

"I highly doubt _my _reasons for not leaving this division are even _close _to similar to yours, Ikkaku."

"An' how the _fuck _would you kn—"

"Are you dating Zaraki, Ikkaku?"

"_WHAT?! _The hell kinda question is—_fuck _no!!"

"See? I told you."

"Don't go fuckin' changin' the _goddamn _subje..."

Ikkaku blinked.

"...Huh?"

Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "Just leave, would you? You'll wake Toushirou. He's been up these past three days, and needs to rest."

"...Toushirou?! Since _fuck _when did you start callin' him 'Toushirou'?!"

"In case you missed it, that _is _his name."

"Not t' _us_, it ain't!! Frickin' uptight Hitsugaya don't let _no one _call 'im by 'at name!"

"No one...but me. Are you done screaming now? I do believe Yamamoto-soutaichou is looking for you."

"...You..._fucking traitor!!'_

Before Matsumoto even had time to react, Ikkaku had her by the collar. His free fist rose, and his eyes seemed to glow with bloodlust.

Before the strike could connect, however, Ikkaku's hand was swallowed by ice.

The temperature in the office dropped to near-freezing.

Ikkaku whirled around, facing a tired, irritated, disheveled Hitsugaya, who was leaning against the door that led into his private chamber.

"...Madarame...you've been drinking on duty..."

"So the _fuck what?!"_

"Shut up, you idiot," the boy captain snapped. "I don't care what your reasons for coming here are. I don't care why you decided it was prudent to get yourself drunk while working. I don't care that you didn't want anyone to know that your bankai has been accomplished, or that you don't want to _leave _your current position."

The bald shinigami's face slackened, as if finally realizing just what he had gotten himself into.

Hitsugaya's eyes were dangerously bright, and his slight body trembled with barely-contained fury. He reached back and grasped Hyourinmaru's hilt.

"..._No one..._raises a hand against Rangiku..."

The third-seat was thrown against the wall by a sudden pulse of spiritual energy. As he struggled to breathe, the thought crossed his mind that he had _never _seen Hitsugaya Toushirou this angry before.

The white-haired captain walked slowly toward him, green eyes alight with angry fire. "...You are a shinigami of the Gotei 13...Madarame Ikkaku. And if it is demanded that you leave your position for another...then you _will _acquiesce...or leave. Those are the only options. We are struggling to pick up the slack left by three traitorous captains, and _you _refuse to do your part because of some foolish, inconsequential, ultimately selfish desire to remain an underling! And you have the audacity to proclaim strength! What is it that you think strength _is_, Madarame?! Because your current behavior is surely not!"

Ikkaku stared.

"...Get out of here. If I see you within my headquarters as you are, inebriated to the point that you would attack a comrade and, more to the point, a superior officer, again...I will not hesitate to kill you."

Ikkaku flew through the wall and was pitched like a rag doll out into the open air.

He realized that some fights...he did _not _want.

* * *

"So, Ikkaku...I notice that you haven't been partaking of alcohol lately."

"Shut up, Yumi," came the curt reply as Ikkaku walked stiffly down the path, shifting his shoulders and adjusting the way his zanpakutou fit against his hip. "Damn frickin' coat don't fit right..."

Yumichika smirked. "I don't see the problem, honestly. Sure, the Eleventh was nice, but a change of scenery might be nice, too. Besides, most of the soldiers in Zaraki's division were rather ugly...and stupid, besides."

"Tch. Whatever. Traitor."

"My, my, Ikkaku, but aren't _you _the loyal one? I wonder, then, why you wear _this." _He picked at the white collar of Ikkaku's cloak, and chuckled when his hand was batted away.

"I said _shut up! _I'm yer damn boss, now, ingrate, so ya gotta listen t' me..."

"Mm...I see. My deepest apologies, Ikkaku-dono."

"...Tch."

Looking the door of his destination up and down, Ikkaku still felt a fleeting urge to strangle Matsumoto. _She _was the reason he was in this mess.

Why'd everyone have to belittle _his _wishes so damn much, anyway?!

Where was the justice?

With a snarl, he kicked the door open instead of bothering with the knob.

A slight figure stood there in front of him.

The figure bowed.

"Konichi wa, Taichou."

"...Oi. Hinamori. Stand up, would ya? Ain't hung up on no formalities. Get somebody t' fix the damn door, too. Too damn flimsy."

"Hai, Taichou. At once."

Hinamori smiled brightly.

As the vice-captain and newly appointed third seat officer of the Fifth Division followed their bald, angry captain into their headquarters, Yumichika couldn't help but think that this was going to be very, _very _interesting.


	29. Endurance Training

**_Being as how I recently stumbled across a comic strip whose creator had the audacity to call Hitsugaya "lame," I reserve the right to preface this chapter with a rant._**

**_Hitsugaya Toushirou is the Pinnacle of Shinigami Greatness. _****_I'd start a religion if I had the charisma._****_ No one, and I mean absolutely no one, who has donned such a moniker can hold a candle to him. Be it Aizen, Ichimaru, Ichigo, Zaraki, even Ryukku from Death Note; I don't care. Not good enough._**

**_Hitsugaya has transcended his manga heritage, indeed has transcended humanity itself in spite of his lack of conscious existence, and become an entity so immensely, incomprehensibly awesome that he is indescribable by any human tongue._**

**_So lower your heads and pay homage, ye lowly mortals._**

**_Oh, and enjoy the chapter...if you have time left afterward._**

****

* * *

****

Hitsugaya opened his eyes, wondering just what was so funny.

Succumbing to a fit of giggles, Matsumoto fell onto her side next to her captain and curled into the fetal position.

"T-T-Toushirou...! I think I...just saw the...f-funniest thing...in the w-whole world!!"

"Hm? What is it, Rangiku? I was trying to get some sleep."

"I...I know, Toushirou, and I'm sorry for disturbing you...but you...you _have _to see this!"

She stumbled to her feet and grabbed Hitsugaya's hand.

Tired, with a headache induced by yet another captains' meeting in which Kurotsuchi and Zaraki had been at each others' throats, but nonetheless curious, Hitsugaya followed his subordinate without complaint.

"What's this about?" he asked instead.

"J-Just follow me! I know why Ikkaku missed the captains' meeting today!"

"...Oh?"

Matsumoto nodded, still giggling madly.

* * *

"M-M-Madarame-taichou! Too heavy!!"

Hitsugaya blinked.

He wasn't sure what to make of the scene in front of him. Matsumoto was still laughing, but Hitsugaya was literally stunned speechless.

It was _too _ridiculous.

There, in front of him, was Hinamori Momo, vice-captain of the Fifth Division...

...Walking on her hands.

And there, in front of him, was Madarame Ikkaku, captain of the Fifth Division...

...Perched atop Hinamori's feet.

"Eh?!" Ikkaku snapped. "Can't hear ya down there, Hinamori! Speak up!!"

"I-I can't do this anymore!! You're t-too heavy, Taichou!!"

"Tch," Ikkaku scoffed, looking around. "We ain't back to headquarters yet! You tellin' me you can't handle this?! Kusajishi-fukutaichou used to do this for _fun! _An' _how _much smaller's she than you?! _Huh?! _Let's go, li'l lady! Chop-chop!"

Following the pair, who looked like a pair of circus performers, was the ringmaster. Ayasegawa Yumichika looked decidedly pleased with himself as he watched the show.

Smiling brilliantly, Yumichika waved. "Endurance training, Hitsugaya-taichou!"

"I...I see," Hitsugaya mumbled.

Arms shaking from holding up her captain's weight as well as her own, Hinamori stared at Hitsugaya with all the poignancy of an abused puppy.

"H-Hitsugaya-taichou! Save me! Please!! Madarame-taichou is crazy!"

"Uh..."

"Don't you worry 'bout Li'l Miss Fukutaichou," Ikkaku muttered. "She's jus' whinin'."

"...Right."

"Hitsugaya-taichou! _Please!! _I'm _begging _you!"

"You'd be done quicker if ya kept _movin'!" _Ikkaku snarled.

"B-B-But Taichou!!"

"Got time to talk? Got time to train! No wonder yer division's such a pansy ass daycare center! You wanna be _my _vice-captain, yer gonna have to toughen up!"

"H-H-Hai...Taichou..." Hinamori moaned pitifully.

She started inching forward, whimpering with each movement.

Hitsugaya almost put a stop to it.

But then Matsumoto, between giggles, said something about the sweatiest stilts she'd ever seen, and Hitsugaya couldn't stop laughing for an hour.

* * *

_**Once this image (likely inspired by Maito Gai from Naruto) muscled its way into my mind, I couldn't let go of it. And thus, the reign of Ikkaku-taichou begins.**_

_**I think it's going to be rather entertaining. **_


	30. ROFL

_**After writing a seven-chapter arc and a two-chapter intro to a second one, I decided I'd try another short one. It's been a while since I did that. So, I just took this random little idea and did what I could with it. Hopefully it's at least slightly amusing.**_

* * *

"So what did you do today?" 

Hitsugaya shrugged. "Nothing much. I tried out a game Inoue showed me last time we were here. It was extremely confusing."

Matsumoto raised an eyebrow, dropping her shopping bags and sitting on the couch. "Confusing? _You, _Toushirou, couldn't figure out a game?"

"It wasn't that," he was quick to assert. "I understood how the game _worked _easily enough, although it's more complex than I thought...it's the _other _people that confuse me."

"Other people?"

"Yes. This game is different from the ones Kurosaki has. It's played over that...internet thing. So when you play, you're in the game world with hundreds of other people, from all over."

"Really? That's interesting. So...what's confusing about these other people?"

Hitsugaya scrunched up his face, clearly still trying to understand. "I...don't know why, but apparently I annoyed one of them. I asked what _I _thought was a simple question, but...the person I asked just told me to..."

He frowned, grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote it down.

Matsumoto looked at the paper and frowned as well. "Wtf...L2P...n...are those _zeroes?"_

"Yes."

"What are they supposed to mean?"

"Apparently, these cretins have no idea how to spell, because I think the word is supposed to be 'newb.' Which is apparently, itself, a made-up contraction for 'newbie.' I can't even hazard a guess as to what the first part means."

"Uh...huh. N00b. Right. So what did _you _say?"

"I asked if he knew that zeroes weren't letters."

"Logically."

"He...lol-ed me."

"He..._what?"_

"I have no idea."

"Lol?"

"Yes."

"O...kaaay..."

"Someone else rofl-ed at me."

"Did..._what?!"_

Hitsugaya shrugged.

Matsumoto stared incredulously at her captain. "You're right. That _is _confusing."

Hitsugaya fully agreed.

And the next day, when he asked Ichigo – who was the shinigamis' chief instructor on the ways of the living world – what all of it meant, he just laughed.

Rukia, who was there as well, laughed with him.

She had no idea why.

Hitsugaya walked away more confused than ever, and decided the next time he played that game, he'd just keep his mouth shut.

He didn't want to chance being rofl-ed again.

Whatever the hell that meant.

* * *

**_Anybody reading this who partakes of online gaming will understand these references easily enough...and probably the rest of you will, too._**

**_This came to me earlier today while I was playing WoW (World of Warcraft, to those who don't know), because yes, I'm one of the eight million some-odd addicts out there, although I consider myself more a casual player. I've never particularly understood my fellow players' fascination with the term "n00b," or with the ever-so popular proverb: "L2P" or "L2play" or "L2-" anything. _**

**_For the record, I hate it. All of it. But, that's the price I pay for liking a popular online game, I guess._**

**_Speaking of which, to anyone who happens to play this game (considering how popular it is, I'd think at least a couple of you do), my main characters are Sythius, a level 66 Night Elf Druid on the Bronzebeard server, and Neothain, a level 27 Blood Elf warlock on the Antonidas server._**

**_ Y'know...just in case somebody cares._**

**_ Anyway, sorry for the delay. Finals, you understand. Summer's starting, though, so I'll have more time. 'Til next time, all.  
_**


	31. Of Captains and Assassinations

_**This was originally written about two months ago for a contest at FanLib (dot) com. Thus, it hasn't the continuity I've recently been making a habit of. In terms of chronology, this would probably be best put right after the titular chapter, #5. **_

_**Once again, our old pal Gin makes an appearance. As does Kazuhiko, albeit once again only in passing. I should write him into a chapter sometime. Figure out just what sort of guy he was.**_

_**Well, enjoy. And go check out FanLib. This story here was 1/50th of the reason I now own an iPod, and it was all because of that site. Rather generous of them, I'd say.**_

* * *

"I met yer new cap'n today, Rangiku-chan..."

Matsumoto turned, raising an eyebrow, as Ichimaru slipped out of the shadows and into the open, that perpetual grin that was so undeniably _him_ plastered on his thin face.

"Huh?" she said, frowning. "When did you meet Hitsugaya-taichou, Gin? He's been working in his office since he first went in it."

The silver-haired man shrugged. "S'where I met 'im. Figured I oughtta meet me the new head honcho f' my friend's Division, ya know?"

Matsumoto crossed her arms. "Oh? And what do you think of him?"

Another shrug. "Think he's got 'is zanpakutou shoved up 'is ass, honestly. Too serious, 'at one. Asked me 'f I had an appointment. Didn' answer none o' my questions with anythin' but a grunt."

Matsumoto smiled.

That certainly sounded like her new captain. If there was one thing that she knew immediately after meeting the golden child of Soul Society who called himself Hitsugaya Toushirou, it was that he took his work very seriously.

"He _is _a strict one," she acknowledged.

"Ya like 'im?"

"Well...sure. Definitely an improvement over his predecessor. At least _he _doesn't try to force me to date him. It's nice. Refreshing, you know?"

"Guess I see that. Y'oughtta work on gettin' the kid t' loosen up, though. Won't make much of a drinkin' buddy if ya can't get 'im drunk."

"Oh, I don't think I'll end up drinking with Hitsugaya-taichou anytime soon. He says he hates alcohol."

Gin's fox-like face scrunched up incredulously. "The hell? 'At's just kinda _weird_, Rangiku-chan. Y'sure he's sane enough to be a captain if he don't _drink?"_

"They let _you _become a captain, didn't they?"

He thought that over. "...Fair 'nuff."

"Zaraki-taichou, Kurotsuchi-taichou...I don't think sanity is a requirement for captaincy."

Ichimaru nodded. "Yeah. Guess 'at's true. But I tell ya, Rangiku-chan...he's got a problem. Y'should work on that drinkin' thing. Ain't natural t' _hate _alcohol."

"_You _don't drink much, either, Gin."

"Yeah, but that don't mean I _hate _to."

Matsumoto smiled slightly. "I think I like that about him. Perpetually sober are two words I'd never want to describe _me_, but I _certainly _find them appealing when they're describing my _male _superior officer."

Ichimaru chuckled.

"Well...s'long 's you like 'im, I guess. You tell me 'f he does anythin' funny, though, huh?"

"You said the same thing about Kazuhiko-taichou. I talked to you a lot about things that _he _did, but you never did anything. Nothing happened."

The Third Division captain's expression didn't change, and Matsumoto thought that was most unsettling when he finally replied, after a contemplative silence that honestly made her wonder if it was a joke or the cold truth.

"...He _died_...didn' he?"

She laughed, but it sounded slightly forced. "You have a weird sense of humor, Gin."

He said nothing.

"...Gotta go, Rangiku-chan. Izuru's prob'ly lookin' f' me. S'posed to be workin'. Have fun wi' sober-boy."

She watched him leave, the grin slipping from her face.

And she wondered.

And tried to remember just where Gin had been when her previous captain had died.

* * *

_**For clarification's sake, I'll interpret the various phrases I used in the last chapter.**_

_**WTF - This one is probably self-evident, as it's a very...popular one. "What the fuck?"**_

_**L2P - Typically L2play or some variant thereof. "Learn to play."**_

_**LOL - Another popular turn of phrase, and one I hate vehemently. "Laugh out loud."**_

_**ROFL - A variation of the above acronym. "Roll on the floor laughing." **_

_**And for the record, Siyaa, I completely agree. And might I add that Aizen would be a Lock. 'Cuz he has demon minions to do his fighting while he sits back and watches, and is vastly overpowered.**_

_**Nerf Aizen! **_

_**To those who didn't get that...ignore it. It doesn't mean anything. **_


	32. A Born Father

_**This is a long one. The longest chapter so far, I think. And those of you hoping for a laugh will probably be disappointed. This isn't a funny one. It's just personal fanservice.**_

_**Having read Ken Akamatsu's **_**Mahou Sensei Negima**_**, I know well the typical definition for fanservice, and that isn't what I mean. What I mean is that most of these have been written to be entertaining. I've kept in mind that I'm writing this for the readers. It's practice, it's a catharsis, it's fun to write, but first and foremost I'm writing this for you guys.**_

_**This one, though, I wrote solely for me. Like **_**Sundaes, _this is a crossover piece, but this one doesn't necessarily _need _to be read as such. The characters that make a cameo here remain unnamed, and only slightly described in a physical sense, and so could be replaced with blank faces just as easily, although doing that makes it lose a lot of its potency, I think.  
_**

**_It's blatantly obvious to me, and might be for those who have read my other works. Those of you who do may even roll your eyes at me. Like I said, I wrote this for me. I had to do it. I tried to make it entertaining for you, too, but it was mostly just to get it out of my system. This time, first and foremost, it was a catharsis._**

**_First to guess the cameos gets a cookie. (wink)_**

* * *

Hitsugaya was a serious individual. A man who – by virtue of his relative youth – was required to act far more mature than many of his elder counterparts, and consequently had conditioned himself to take any situation, no matter the case, with a cold stoicism that – according to some – bordered on the sociopathic.

This, however, was not the case.

It took a lot to get to him, but sometimes...sometimes he wasn't able to keep up the shields.

And this was one of those times.

It was occasions like these that he only _wished_ he were able to block out emotion completely and treat his role as a shinigami simply as a job. A duty. Something to be done as mechanically as dressing in the morning and sleeping at night.

Like Tousen Kaname.

Or Aizen Sousuke.

Hitsugaya strained to remain professional. But as he watched the scene unfolding before him, he wasn't sure he could.

"Hitsugaya-taichou."

He didn't look at Rukia. He kept his eyes forward. Locked forward. Unable to look away.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, you're shaking."

No response. He wasn't listening. He couldn't hear her.

All he could hear were the desperate, agonized, terrified sobs of the child in front of him.

The boy had held up admirably at the funeral, had spoken on the deceased's behalf without a hitch. Had even taken an insult directed at the deceased with nothing but a silent glare of suddenly black hatred tinged with deep, cutting anguish.

The young woman who had delivered that insult had been silenced quickly by the others attending the service, by glares of their own flavored with surprise, disappointment, and a promise to retaliate, _not _gently, if she deigned to speak again.

The boy had lost what composure he'd had now, and was collapsed against the grave marker, weeping openly. Face pressed against the cold, unfeeling stone, he cried hysterically, hiccupping and fighting mightily to force oxygen into his small lungs only to let it out in another broken, grief-stricken scream.

Nobody but Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, and Rukia saw the angular, silent, equally grief-stricken man standing to the side, watching the boy with dry, emotionless, helpless eyes, clad in a dark navy coat that whispered about his ethereal shins in a wind that none of them felt.

Hitsugaya forced himself to approach the spirit.

"...I failed."

Of all the words he had expected to hear, those were the least from Hitsugaya's mind, and he took a long moment to reply.

"You...didn't fail."

The man turned, and looked down.

"...You see me."

"I do."

He looked at Hitsugaya silently for a long moment, then turned his attention back to the child.

"I...spent my life so secure...in the knowledge, the certainty...that there was nothing left afterward. I told myself that my life was not a test...that I was not a pawn for the amusement of some cosmic puppeteer too absorbed in his own sadism to know or appreciate the truth of what he had wrought."

Aizen came forcefully to mind.

"Most intelligent people do," Hitsugaya offered, unsure of quite what to say.

A humorless chuckle. "If that was supposed to help my mood any, it didn't work."

The white-haired captain sighed heavily. "If there were any true justice..." he said softly, and was reminded of Tousen, "you would not say you've failed. He's alive, isn't he? You saved him from death."

"And perhaps it is there that I have failed most miserably," came the reply, "because surely if there were any true justice, _I _would not be the one with leave to let go. If justice had any reality, _I _would be suffering. Not he. But look. Look there, stranger, and tell me how it is that I _haven't_ failed."

There was something about this man's voice that didn't compute in the shinigami's head. It was mechanical. _Too _mechanical. Like this man, this man who wasn't much more of a man than the boy sobbing at the gravesite, was some sort of machine. A creature not built on human emotion.

Not a sociopath. Not someone without the capacity for emotion, like some thought of himself.

Someone without the very _concept _of the capacity for emotion.

Someone so far removed from humanity that it did not exist.

And again, Aizen came to mind.

Hitsugaya shuddered.

But even as he saw that, he saw another side to the man. A side so completely _immersed _in emotion that it drowned. Because Hitsugaya saw in the man's eyes, behind the steely sheen of total indifference, a grief so profound that the boy may as well have been skipping through a field of flowers and singing.

These two sides of the man were at war, and Hitsugaya wondered which would win out in the end, if the end ever showed itself.

This man was a living (dying...dead...undead) paradox, a figure of balance so cruel in its extremity. The empathetic side screeched and howled and thrashed at the sight before him...while the pragmatic side acknowledged and pushed upon him the futility of it.

Hitsugaya felt cold, and it was not comforting.

Not this time.

"He doesn't know. No one has told him the truth of what happened, because they're all too afraid to. And he doesn't know."

His mouth was suddenly dry, and the snow-crowned boy sighed again without responding.

"Instantaneous. No hospital...no attempts at rescue...no goodbye. I've failed him. Left him like this." Another humorless chuckle. "It just figures...I always figured out a way to hurt him...No matter what I did to help him, I always managed to hurt him."

He couldn't stand looking at the man's eyes anymore.

He turned. "Kuchiki," he said, and his voice was choked with restrained emotion of his own.

She approached, Matsumoto beside her.

"Yes, Taichou?"

"Your glove."

"...What...about it?"

"Do it. Now."

"Do..._what?"_

Hitsugaya's eyes flared. "...Give them a goodbye."

Realization dawned on the small shinigami's face. "T-Taichou...I don't know if...I've never used it on someone so _young_, I...what if...? I don't even know if it will..."

**"**_**Do it.**"_

It was an order.

And Rukia had a feeling that disobeying it would be the last mistake she would ever make.

She donned the article in question, walked up to the boy, and instead of pushing his spirit out of his body as was her M.O., she coaxed it out by gently placing her palm on the child's head.

The boy's spirit blinked, cries quieting as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He looked down at his body, at the chain connecting him to it, up at Rukia, and tried to speak.

Hitsugaya looked at the man. "...Go to him."

The man stared at him.

"Tell him."

Turning, the man drew in a shuddering breath and did as told. Took the small gesture, this last gift, at face value without question.

The boy saw his approach, and opened his mouth in pure shock. Eyes like storm-clouds shot with amethyst widened to saucers.

"N...N-N..."

The man knelt down.

Hitsugaya closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Somehow, watching felt like trespassing.

This moment belonged to them.

Matsumoto looked at him. "...You're not supposed to do that, Toushirou. Death follows its own course, and this kind of manipula—"

"Rangiku."

She stopped.

"Don't...reprimand me," Hitsugaya said.

"I...I'm sorry. Forgive me, Taichou, I..."

"No. Don't...don't worry. It's okay, I...I just...don't really care about protocol right now..."

Matsumoto's eyes softened. "I don't blame you," she said softly.

The child began to cry again, but this time it was different. There was desperation in those sobs now, desperation and love and the heartbreaking timbre of a child who wants nothing more in all the world than the safety and reassurance of a parent's embrace.

And he realized his mistake.

There would always be that hope, now. That hope of seeing the man again. It happened once; couldn't it happen again? Please? Pretty please?

It was a huge mistake, the sort that could cause severe repercussions. Yamamoto-soutaichou would more than likely have choice words for him, when and if word of this stunt got back to Soul Society.

Hitsugaya decided he just didn't care.

For once, he damned the rules and damned the consequences, tossed them aside. It just didn't matter.

He turned.

The man knelt on the ground, holding the child in a tight hug, whispering softly. There was nothing of the machine in him now. No mechanical detachment.

And there was no despair in him now, Hitsugaya realized with a start. There was no semblance of sadness on his face now. Nothing. Nothing but calm, soothing affection and unshakable strength.

"Why is he not crying?" Matsumoto wondered, slight condescension in her tone. "He...he _should_ be crying. This could be the last—"

"That's why he isn't," Hitsugaya interjected, suddenly comprehending. "He knows this is his chance at goodbye. And has chosen not to squander it with tears. To taint it with sadness. He's...leaving the boy with an image of strength, of confidence. A memory to draw comfort from."

Admiration brought the slightest of smiles to the young captain's face. Silently, he congratulated the man.

And then, all too soon, he pushed the boy back, hands on his still-shaking shoulders, and smiled. Kissed his brow. Ruffled his raven-colored hair.

"Go on, my little one. This part's done. I'll see you again."

The boy wiped tears from his eyes. "...P-P-Promise...?" he whimpered in a heart-wrenching, painfully young voice.

"I promise."

A trace of that mechanical tone was there again, and Hitsugaya knew that the man had just told a blatant, boldfaced lie.

He didn't expect to ever see this boy again.

"O...Okay...I'll see you then. 'Kay?"

"Of course. Now go. Don't worry about me."

"I...won't. I...I love you."

"I love you, too. More than you'll ever know."

One last hug. Another kiss to the forehead.

The boy kissed the man's cheek.

And that was goodbye.

* * *

"...No."

It was like running face-first into a wall. Like leaning against something and realizing just too late that it wasn't there.

Hitsugaya stumbled, Hyourinmaru halfway out of its sheathe.

Matsumoto gaped. "..._What?"_

"I said, _no," _the man replied. "I will not."

"D-Don't be ridiculous!" Rukia cried. "You _have _to go to Soul Society! If you don't you'll—"

"I know. You've explained it to me twice already. Complete with diagrams. I have made my choice. No."

For the first time since the mission had begun, Hitsugaya felt a trace of anger. "Listen, I don't know what your deal is. I don't know why you'd rather become a mindless drone hell-bent on pointless destruction than be at peace, but _that_ doesn't matter. This is my _job. _Do you understand?"

"I understand perfectly. I do not care."

"Listen, you. I'm about fed up with this refusal. Don't you understand? You'll become a creature of instinct. You'll kill indiscriminately. And we cannot allow that."

"Then you will kill me."

"Yes. And then you will just end up in Soul Society anyway."

"All the more proof that this discussion is pointless."

"Apparently you hold little regard for your peers. Fair assessment. As a rule, I suppose I not only sympathize but _agree_ with such an assessment. But would you risk putting that boy in danger? The first target a hollow hones in on is whoever was closest to its heart in life. What if we can't get to you in time, and you kill _him?"_

"I will not."

"How can you _say _that? You don't know—"

"I _do _know."

Hitsugaya wanted to scream at the man. He _didn't _know, and it was just plain _stupid_ bravado to be so damned confident about something like this! He _would _do it, and there was _nothing _that would stop him!

And yet...something about the set of the man's eyes...the steel gleam of them. There was no bravado there. Only complete, total, relentless control.

And Hitsugaya wondered..._would _he?

And then Matsumoto spoke.

"...You're being selfish. God knows I'm not about to criticize you for the trait itself, or I'd be a hypocrite. And you died saving a child's life, so I'd be just about willing to indulge you anything right now. But this sort of selfishness is inexcusable.

"If you choose to stay here, for whatever reason, and become a hollow, you may _never _see him again. It may be _centuries_ before you end up in Soul Society. And if you aren't there to see him when he arrives, his heart will be broken. _Again._You told him you would see him again. And I'm not about to let you prove the lie to that."

She slid Haineko out of its sheathe and stamped it onto the man's forehead with an angry jerk so sudden that he couldn't dodge it, although that didn't stop him from trying. "So stop bitching and go to Soul Society to wait for him."

The man, as he vanished, crossed his arms. "...Fine."

And after it was done, Matsumoto frowned. "Fine?" she repeated. "Just like that? Hell, I didn't expect to win him over _that _quickly!"

"He never intended to become a hollow in the first place," Hitsugaya muttered thoughtfully.

"Huh? Then why would...?"

"Purely for the sake of argument, maybe. I don't know. But he wouldn't have done it. He'd have let us convince him."

"How can you...?"

"Because he's just that way. He's not selfish. Far from it. He wouldn't deny that child anything. He wouldn't have taken any chance at it. It's not in his nature."

"How do you know that? How can you tell?"

Hitsugaya looked at the tombstone of the man his vice-captain had just sent to Soul closed his eyes.

"You can't deny your nature no matter how you might try."

"And...what _was_ that man's nature, Hitsugaya-taichou?" Rukia asked. "What _was _he, since you seem to know so well? Just what did you see when you looked at him?"

"...A father."

The tears finally came, and Hitsugaya looked up at the sky as they streamed silently down his face.

"I saw...a born father."

* * *

_**So...do you know? I bet some of you do. And I bet your eyes rolled, too. Because this is a habit of mine. A habit I don't think I'll ever break. But I hope you liked it, anyway. There are plenty of lines in this chapter that I feel particularly proud of. **_

_**'Til next time.**_


	33. Into the Fray

_**Before we get on with this chapter (which is a bit of an experiment; your endorsement or rejection of it will determine whether I write other chapters of this ilk in the future), I'll clear up the confusion of the last, and apologize for just how long these author's notes are going to be.**_

_**I was a bit surprised (likely due to the blatant obviousness of it in my own mind) that only two of you guessed correctly the cameos of "A Born Father."**_

_**The man was Kaiba Seto (or Seto Kaiba) from Takahashi Kazuki's **_**Yu-Gi-Oh! **_**The boy was his younger brother, Mokuba. These two are my favorite manga/anime characters from any series I've ever come to know (don't ask me why; I couldn't explain it if I tried), are my foremost inspiration for fanfiction writing, and will never be unseated. I accept no argument. There **_**is **_**no argument.**_

_**But anyway, vehement bias aside, I've an idea for another chapter rolling about in my head, but since it's a bit angsty I decided I should go with this idea first. #32 wasn't exactly a skip through a field of flowers (although one of you called it "cute" for some strange reason I don't think I'll ever understand), so I thought something light and funny would be best suited as a follow-up. **_

_**It will probably be a bit confusing to start with, and is yet another crossover, but in a different manner than my previous ones. The idea popped into my head after writing #30, and I decided I'd try my hand at it.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

* * *

"So...ye gonna tell us this business, or be we t' guess?"

After this question, the speaker took a long pull from the skin in his thick left hand, the right idly patting the head of the gigantic boar seated beside his chair. Frowning, he upended the skin and shook it.

"Oi!" he called. "Dobbins! 'Nother skin o' stout, 'f it does ya!"

The barkeep turned at the voice and nodded. "Aye, Master Thargor. At once."

Nodding, the dwarf named Thargor turned back to the business at hand. The young, thin woman standing before him, known to some as Black Thirteen (likely due to the silken black dress she wore almost exclusively when in public; if there was any significance to the number, Thargor didn't know it), nodded distractedly as she scanned the room with her silver eyes.

"A mission," she murmured. "From Stoutmantle, to the southwest. You know of him?"

"Know 'im?" Thargor repeated. "Aye, but I know Ol' Gryan Stoutmantle well enough. 'F it's for that one ye come 'ere, then ye've me ear, lass. Ye have it very well. Speak on, I beg."

"...It concerns the Brotherhood...doesn't it?"

The woman blinked. Turning toward the new voice, she nodded. "A-Aye...so it does. How did you...?"

"Stoutmantle has been fretting over the Defias uprising ever since it began," the voice, slightly muffled, replied softly. A figure, swathed in black leather armor with red cloth covering the bottom half of his face, stepped from the shadows and glanced fleetingly at Thargor.

The dwarf nodded and the man sat down at his table.

Leaning forward, the man looked up at Black Thirteen again. "I am one of the few to have left VanCleef's band without finding a ride in a pine box or a drop from the noose. If you intend to enter his mines...you would do well to have one who knows them with you, night elf."

The woman frowned. "...I see. But if you have been of his gang...how am I to trust your word?"

"Whether you trust me or not is your own course, and I'll not attempt to force it one way or another...I simply make an offer. I've personal...grievances with Edwin VanCleef that I intend to...clear up."

"Aye..." Thargor muttered. "But don't we all 'ave some grievances with 'at one. Ye go by the name o' Entreri, don't ye, lad? I seen ye 'round the 'Shire time an' again...whispers o' yer escape."

The man leaned back, and when the bartender came to the table with Thargor's drink, he ordered a flask of Port for himself and slipped enough coin on the table for both.

Thargor nodded his thanks and saluted with his skin before taking a swig.

"However..." Entreri continued, "...it would perhaps be sound strategy to find others to assist you...if you are to enter the mines, you would do well to be prepared."

"The mission afforded to me was to bring the head of VanCleef himself to Master Stoutmantle."

Entreri laughed sharply. "If _that _is your aim, you'd need a miracle! Do you think him such a simpleton that such a task would be done with just a dwarf and his pet pig?"

"Pithlit be more 'n a pig, Entreri," Thargor muttered. "An' don't ye be doubtin' 'at if ye 'adn't proved generous jus' now I'd be teachin' ye that..."

Entreri snorted dismissively.

"Pardon, good sir..."

Entreri looked over his shoulder. "...What?"

A sly smile rose on the face of the elven woman now standing behind Entreri, and she winked. Her curvaceous figure leaned close, and she leaned one elbow on the table.

"I hear you're in the market for a miracle...? I might be of assistance in that matter..."

"Bah!" Thargor spat. "Ye couldn' serve up a miracle 'f ye found one on a plate! Get ye back t' dancin' on mailboxes, Greenie!"

The elf sighed heavily. "The name afforded me by you _fine _people of Goldshire – for apparently my real name cannot find purchase in your heads – is _Twinkle. _If you _must _call me by some irritating nickname, at _least _use _that _one."

The elf's voice had taken on a hard edge, and even Entreri, a seasoned veteran of deception, blinked at the change. He frowned beneath his crimson mask. "...Twinkle, you say. You wear the vestments of one marked by Elune. A priestess?"

"I _might_ be."

"Priestess!" Thargor snarled and laughed heavily. "I'd set me watch 'n warrant on ye bein' no more'n a Darnassian stuff-shirt's fun night out, so I would!"

Twinkle's eyes glinted with irritation.

"While I _do _visit Darnassus from time to time...I am no noble."

Blinking, Twinkle stared behind her. "Hey!" she snapped indignantly. "I am _not_ just your _fun night out, _blue-boy!"

Black Thirteen sighed heavily at yet another interruption. "And...who are _you_, sir?"

The young man in blue robes shrugged his shoulders and ran a hand through his white hair. His green eyes glowed with arcane power. "Some call me the 'young old one.' Others 'Whitecrown.' More knowledgeable folk know me as the Blue Bend...or—"

Suddenly, someone on the other side of the tavern shot up and shouted at the top of their lungs:

"CAN SUM1 GIV M3 G0LD PLZKTHXBAI!!1!"

* * *

Hitsugaya slapped his forehead. "Damn it!"

Matsumoto giggled from beside him. "Right in the middle of your grand introduction, too."

From the speakers of his headset, Hitsugaya heard Renji laughing his head off. "Oh, shut it, Abarai! It's not that funny!"

_"Sure it is! It's fuckin' hilarious!"_

Rolling his eyes, Hitsugaya sighed. Even Ichigo was snickering.

_"So, stranger..." _Ichigo continued, lapsing into an amused version of his character's rasp, _"what is it...that you call yourself?"_

"...Icingdeath."

Another snicker from the orange-headed shinigami.

"Oh, what's funny _now?" _Hitsugaya demanded.

_"Twinkle...and Icingdeath. That's cute."_

"Oh, shut up, _Entreri. _Inoue suggested these, remember?"

_"No, no...that's great. I like it."_

He was still holding back laughter.

Hitsugaya ground his teeth. "Don't forget that my ability to freeze people isn't limited to this game," he snapped. "And I don't have to _duel _you to do it, either."

_"Hey!" _Rukia called. _"Come on, now. We joined a role-playing server to play roles, didn't we? You're not in-character!"_

"I think you might be taking the whole 'in-character' thing a bit seriously, you know," Matsumoto said. "After all, didn't you report Renji yesterday for asking Urahara for a bowl of rice? You do realize that the people in charge of this game don't listen to conversations over these headsets, don't you? They aren't going to do anything."

Rukia didn't respond for a long moment. She was probably sulking. _"So? I still want to do this right. It's important!"_

"Not really..." Hitsugaya murmured under his breath. "_I _just wanted to get my character a new weapon..."

Matsumoto nudged him. "Hush, Toushirou," she said. "We know you're not into the whole role-playing thing. You told us already that you think it's childish."

_"Which is stupid since you're _still _playing the game," _Ichigo put in. _"If role-playing's childish, why ain't the game?"_

Hitsugaya scowled. "Shut up, Kurosaki."

_"A'right, a'right! Blind me eyes 'n carry the blessed home, but ye argue a lot!" _Renji snapped in the voice of his dwarf, and stifled a snicker of his own (he had far too much fun with that voice, Hitsugaya thought). _"Le's just get out 'n kill us a thief!"_

"If we're killing thieves, I vote for _Entreri _first," Hitsugaya muttered.

_"I'm a rogue, _Icingdeath," Ichigo corrected.

"You're an _idiot. _Let's go."

Looking back at his screen, Hitsugaya saw a message there.

_**Entreri thinks you are a pint-sized little whiner.**_

Hitsugaya frowned. "Oh. Mature, Kurosaki. Very mature."

However, not two seconds later, Ichigo saw a message on his own monitor:

_**Icingdeath sets you on fire.**_

Ichigo came back with:

_**Entreri stabs you in the eye.**_

To which Hitsugaya replied:

_**Icingdeath doesn't need two eyes to kill you.**_

Ichigo responded with:

_**No, but he does need stilts.**_

Hitsugaya glared murderously. "I hope you choke."

Ichigo laughed.

Renji laughed as well.

Rukia was giggling.

Even Matsumoto was straining to hold back laughter.

Hitsugaya slouched in his chair and vowed to murder each and every one of them.

* * *

_**This chapter is rife with symbolism, which I will now clear up in case you didn't catch all (or any) of them.**_

_**Firstly, a few of you should recognize the setting and storyline of the majority of this chapter as being from World of Warcraft, an Alliance quest chain involving a sect of criminals known as the Defias Brotherhood.**_

_**Second, the names of Hitsugaya's and Matsumoto's characters, Icingdeath and Twinkle, are the names of the scimitars of R.A. Salvatore's famed drow elf ranger, Drizzt Do'Urden, who was born to **__**Daermon N'a'shezbaernon (House Do'Urden), which in the beginning of the story was, ironically, **__**Tenth**__** House of the Drow city of Menzoberrenzan. It should also be noted that Twinkle is elven-forged (Matsumoto's character is an elf), and that Icingdeath was found in the treasure trove of a white dragon (the reference to Hitsugaya should be obvious here).**_

_**Ichigo's character name also comes from Salvatore's work. Artemis Entreri is Drizzt's chief rival in the realms of swordplay and morality, and is an immensely skilled assassin (and one of my favorite fictional villains in history, brief as my own history, two decades, has been). Ichigo's character is a rogue, befitting such a history.**_

_**Renji's character, the dwarf hunter Thargor, and his pet, Pithlit, refer to Tad Williams's science fiction series **_**Otherland. **_**Thargor the barbarian is the name of the role-playing character (in a game called **_**Middle Country) **_**of Orlando Gardiner, my personal favorite character in the series (and #10 of all time). Pithlit is the thief character of Orlando's best friend, Sam Fredericks. The name is reported to be a mispronunciation of A.A. Milne's character Piglet, from the Winnie the Pooh books. Pithlit, thus, is a boar.**_

_**Lastly, a few references come from Stephen King's **_**Dark Tower, **_**the greatest story **__**EVER**__**. Some, perhaps many, of you may disagree with me...you're wrong. Some of Thargor's dialogue ("if it does ya," "watch and warrant," "I beg") comes from the dialect of Calla Bryn Sturgis, the central setting of the fifth novel, and another of his lines refers to the song "Carry the Blessed Home," by Blind Guardian, which deals with the series' main character, Roland Deschain (The King, The Omega, The Almighty, #1 Favorite Character of All Time).**_

_**Lastly, Rukia's character's nickname, Black Thirteen, and one of Hitsugaya's, the Blue Bend, refers to a series of thirteen crystal balls, collectively called the "bends o' the rainbow," magical objects of significant importance in the Dark Tower universe. I chose "Blue Bend" specifically for Hitsugaya's affinity for ice. "Black Thirteen" has a bit more importance, as that crystal is tied directly to the Dark Tower itself, the nexus which ties all worlds together. I used such as a nickname for Rukia's character due to the Shrine of Penitence, because of her central importance in Ichigo's group, and because of her being in the Thirteenth Division.**_

_**This chapter is being posted in honor of a momentous event in my gaming career (yes, I call it a career). Very, very early this morning (read: midnight), my main Warcraft character, who you may recall goes by the name of Sythius, reached the lofty height of level 70. For those who don't know...don't worry about it. It doesn't hold any significance outside of the game. But those few of you who do play know that this is a big moment for me. It took me several months (to get from 60 to 66, because I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing), and 3 days (to get from 66 to 70, because I **_**did **_**know what I was doing and where I was going), but I did it. And now the fun really starts. I've my eye on an Onyx Nether Drake now...heh-heh.**_

_**Again, those who have no idea what any of that means...it holds no actual relevance. I'm just proud of myself. Anyway, as oddball and experimental as this chapter was (and as longwinded as the author's notes were), I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my literary lunacy. Again, if enough of you like it, I'll continue along this story later, perhaps taking Icingdeath and his companions all the way through the Dark Portal into Outland someday (in about seventeen years). If not...well, it was fun to me. **_

_**A final note, just in case anyone who plays wants to know. Icingdeath is a Frost Mage (obviously), Twinkle is a Holy Priest, Entreri is a Combat Rogue (swords), Thargor is a Beast Mastery Hunter, and Black Thirteen (she has another name; just not revealed) is a Feral Druid (because that's my specialty).**_

_**There are other characters I have planned to enter into the fray, if this chapter strikes your interest. So let me know.**_

'_**Til next time, everyone. **_


	34. A Coincidence or a Dream

_**Well, since a couple of you suggested it, and it seems a good idea, I may just start up a Bleach/WoW offshoot to detail the journeys of Icingdeath, Twinkle, Entreri and the others, every once in a while giving a glimpse into the players and their various hilarious arguments...I don't know when I'll start it, what I'll call it, or anything else about it...but I might just do it.**_

_** Well, now my personal fanservice is at an end, and we're back to dealing with canon characters and situations. No more crossovers. At least for a while. Obviously I might do some more later on in this story's lifespan if the idea strikes my fancy, but for now...let's just stick with the regular Bleach-verse, shall we?**_

* * *

_****__**  
**_

"It's...always a shame. Wouldn't you say?"

"Eh?"

Frowning at his companion, Aizen Sousuke raised a thin eyebrow. "This. Aren't you...affected by it?"

"'At guy ain't 'ffected by nuttin', Taichou," came a voice from behind them. Aizen turned and glanced at his adjutant as he sauntered forward.

"Do you think, Gin? That's a rather harsh thing to say about a superior officer, wouldn't you say?"

Ichimaru's ever-present grin widened slightly. "I dunno 'bout that, Taichou. Ya might say it's a compliment. Psychopath makes a good soldier, don'tcha think?"

A laugh, and the three men turned to regard their sole female companion.

Matsumoto Rangiku crossed her arms. "Come off it, Gin. My captain's the furthest thing from a psychopath as you can get."

A laugh from said captain. "Now, I think _that_ might be harsh, my dear little officer. I might think that you are...insinuating something here."

Matsumoto smirked. "I might think that you might be right."

Kazuhiko Senichi chuckled. "Ever playful, aren't you, Rangiku-chan?"

Matsumoto winked.

Aizen frowned thoughtfully. "Well...the hollow has moved on from this area...I suppose we should, as well. But before we do...one of us should handle this."

"He's hysterical," Kazuhiko muttered. "Look at 'im, crying his head off. He's not going to listen. He's too young to even understand what's going on."

"Then why bother talkin' to 'im at all?" Ichimaru asked. "Jus' do it 'n let 'im figure it out on 'is own."

"Gin, that's cruel!" Matsumoto said with a slight chuckle, pushing him on the shoulder. "We can't do that to the little guy! Look at him! He can't be more than five!"

_"You_ don' look more 'n twenty, Rangiku-chan, 'n how old're you? Kid might be a couple hun'rd f' all we know."

"He'd have been taken by a hollow by _that_ point," Kazuhiko said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?"

Aizen adjusted his glasses. "Judging by his current behavior, I would guess that he is newly deceased. If so much time had gone by, he would have long since stopped crying for his mother."

Ichimaru looked at the child in question. "Yeah...guess so. So whadda we do? Play janken for it?"

Aizen looked back at the pair of vice-captains. "Senichi and I will scout the area for traces of our target. You two decide amongst yourselves who will handle the boy."

"...Guess 'at settles it, then. C'mon, Rangiku-chan. Le's go say hi to the kid."

Matsumoto shrugged and followed her friend toward the white-haired child crying hysterically in the snow.

* * *

"Hey. Hey-hey...c'mon now. Hush up, kid." 

Blinking large, wet, shining green eyes, the boy stopped crying enough to stare up at the silver-haired vice-captain currently staring at him through closed eyes.

Matsumoto knelt down and smiled. "Hello, there, little one. Why are you crying?"

She tried her best to speak in a calm, soothing voice, and kept her face open, friendly, and benevolent. Ichimaru remained standing, face as impassive as it ever was.

He'd apparently decided to let Matsumoto do the rest of the work. Which was probably a good thing, because she wasn't sure if her friend was all that good at dealing with children, and couldn't really imagine it even when she tried.

Sniffling, the boy wiped his nose and blinked up at her. "...I...I can't find...find my mommy..."

Matsumoto frowned sympathetically. "Awww...poor li'l guy..." She reached out and stroked a strand of stray hair behind the boy's left ear. "That's too bad..."

"Tell ya a secret, kid," Ichimaru put in, apparently having decided he wasn't going to be silent after all, "I think I might know where ya can find 'er."

The boy turned his face to the silver-haired man. "R-R-Really?"

"Yup."

"Where?"

"'S a place we like t' call 'Soul Society.'"

"...Where's that?"

Ichimaru popped a finger up toward the sky. "'S up there. See, 's kinda magical, this place. 'N ya can only get there 'f we help ya."

"Y-You think...my mommy is there?"

"Poss'bly. Y'oughtta go there 'n look."

"Tell you what, little guy," Matsumoto said suddenly. "You think about that for a second. I'm going to talk to my friend for a bit."

Still sniffling, the boy nodded. "...'Kay."

* * *

"What are you _doing, _Gin?! You have no idea where that kid's mother is! She might not even be_ dead!"_

Ichimaru shrugged. "Look, Rangiku-chan, our job ain't t' be truthful. Our job's t' send souls up t' Soul Society. Kid ain't gonna know I'm lyin'. Hell, you dunno if she ain't dead. What'f she's there?

"But that ain't the point. Point is, we gotta get that kid up there. 'N like yer cap'n said, he ain't gonna listen to us 'f we tell 'im 'e's dead. Gonna think we're crazy 'n keep on cryin' f' Mama."

"That doesn't mean you should tell him such a blatant _lie,_ Gin! He's just a kid!"

"Wish I cared, Rangiku-chan. I'll be honest witcha. I'd jus' as soon let 'im get eaten. Don' make no dif'rence t' me. We're wagin' a war 'gainst the hollows, here, 'n I ain't gonna let m'self get all hung up on every li'l civilian 'at gets caught 'n between. 'At'll jus' drive me crazy, 'n I'd rather not do that."

Surprised, and yet not surprised, by her friend's callousness, Matsumoto sighed and just waved a hand in his direction. It was no use discussing morality with Ichimaru Gin, and she knew that better than anyone.

"...Fine. Let's just...get it over with."

Ichimaru nodded.

* * *

"She's pretty, huh?" 

The boy blinked. "...Huh?"

"M' friend here. S'okay. Ya can admit it. Like lookin' at 'er, huh?"

"Gin!" Matsumoto cried, smacking him playfully on the shoulder. "He's too young for that! Don't talk to him like that!"

Ichimaru chuckled. "C'mon, now. Yer a boy. Ya can tell me. 'N I'll tell ya this: you go t' Soul Society, ya might even meet 'er there. 'N who knows? Get old 'nuff, she might even date ya. Rangiku-chan likes a good time, ya know."

"Gin, shut _up!_" Matsumoto tried so say indignantly, but ended up laughing. "That's embarrassing! Aren't you my friend? That's not a nice thing to say!"

Ichimaru ignored his fellow vice-captain and leaned in close to the boy. "Letcha in on a secret, kid," he said softly. "Rangiku-chan's a soldier, 'n she's got herself a commander. 'At guy back 'ere with the beard. See 'im? She don't like 'im. Maybe y'oughtta try gettin' our job when ya get there. Betcha Mommy'd be proud o' ya, 'n maybe you'll take 'at guy's place. You'd be nice t' Rangiku-chan, wouldn'tcha? Yeah, I betcha would."

The boy simply stared at him, not understanding one word in six. He clearly had absolutely no clue what Ichimaru was talking about.

"Ah..." Ichimaru sighed and shrugged. "You'll understand later."

He slipped Shinsou out of its sheathe and slapped the boy's forehead with the hilt. Falling backward with a grunt, the white-haired child stared at the pair as he vanished, tears still welling in his eyes.

* * *

"...Toushirou?" 

Blinking, Hitsugaya looked up from the sheet of paper in his hand at his vice-captain. "...Huh? What is it, Rangiku?"

"Meeting. C'mon. Let's go."

"O-Oh. Right. Sorry."

Setting the sheet down, he adjusted his cloak and walked with Matsumoto out of the Tenth Division's headquarters and toward the First's.

As they walked, Hitsugaya found himself watching his adjutant as she walked, wondering if the memories that had suddenly jumped into his head upon seeing that old report were completely accurate.

Had she been there?

Had it been Ichimaru who...?

It had all been so clear, but...was it true?

He wasn't sure. It seemed so...so romance-novel cliché.

Perhaps it wasn't a memory at all, but a dream.

He honestly couldn't tell for sure which.

Sighing, Hitsugaya simply shook his head and put it out of his mind. It didn't really matter, honestly. It was either a dream or one hell of a coincidence.

As he walked beside Matsumoto, Hitsugaya frowned, eyes drawn to her hand. Had that hand tried to comfort him, so many years ago, while Aizen and Kazuhiko searched for a hollow and Ichimaru grinned his manic grin and thought his manic thoughts?

Acting on simple impulse, he reached out and took hold of that hand.

Matsumoto looked at him, surprised.

He simply shrugged.

She smiled, squeezed the hand holding hers, and turned her eyes forward again.

As they walked, Kyouraku – half-walking, half-dragged by his vice-captain – stumbled across them. He grinned and nodded a greeting.

"Hello, Rangiku-chan, Hitsugaya-kun."

"Good morning, Kyouraku-taichou."

Nanao nodded a greeting but said nothing.

Hitsugaya followed her lead.

Kyouraku straightened, caught the fact that his fellow shinigamis' hands were linked in a decidedly non-professional manner, and grinned widely.

"Ho-ho...look at _this_...and you thought Hinamori-chan was lying," he chuckled, nudging Nanao with one elbow.

"Hand-holding hardly constitutes what _you_ think is going on," Nanao muttered.

"It _might,"_ Matsumoto offered coyly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"It all depends on what Kyouraku thinks is going on," Hitsugaya added, "and how much free time we happen to have."

Nanao stared, unblinking.

Kyouraku laughed loudly. _"Ha!_ Wonderful! Just wonderful! Ah, I'm happy for you! This calls for a celebration!"

_"After_ the meeting," Nanao said sharply, regaining her immaculate composure. Adjusting her glasses slightly, she glared at her captain with a no-nonsense expression that bespoke no argument.

Sighing, Kyouraku nodded miserably. "Of course...let's go, then."

The four shinigami continued walking.

Kyouraku glanced back at Hitsugaya and winked. "I told you, Hitsugaya-kun. That you'd understand when you got a little older."

"...I suppose you were right."

The grin widened. "Of course, I did mislead you a bit back then. You see, if I recall, I told you that...oh, what was it...?"

"That I had the most beautiful, ravishing vice-captain in the entire Gotei 13."

Matsumoto blinked, a slight blush coming to her face. "Did you say that, Kyouraku-taichou?"

"I did," he answered, but lowered his eyes. "And I'm most assuredly sorry to admit that that was a bit of a lie. You see...not to be so narcissistic, you understand, but...I'm afraid _I_ hold that particular honor."

Nanao grunted and rolled her eyes.

Hitsugaya smirked. "And _I'm_ afraid that _I_ will have to disagree with that, Kyouraku. To be _entirely_ narcissistic, you understand."

Kyouraku responded with another laugh. "Good man! Bravo!"

Matsumoto's blush deepened.

Nanao sighed again.

Hitsugaya's smirk widened.

_Get old 'nuff, she might even date ya. Rangiku-chan likes a good time, ya know._

Extensively ironic coincidence?

A dream?

Hitsugaya decided it was both.

* * *

_****__**If the quality of this installment is less than usual...sorry. I'm a bit tired. I just wanted to get this up for those of you unfamiliar with my crossovers, and just want to read about the Tenth Division's leading officers. I can't blame you, and I'm sorry for confusing you with these past couple chapters. I hope I may be forgiven.**_

_****__**'Til next time.**_


	35. Game of Persuasion

_**I know I say this a lot, but I'm sorry for the delay.**_

_**I had some personal issues kind of...blocking my inspiration for a while, and I've just now gotten around to this collection again. Part of the problem was coming up with an idea that actually went somewhere in my head.**_

_**This was the first thing I was able to work with. Hopefully you'll enjoy it.**_

* * *

"Oh, come on!" 

"No. Absolutely not. You hear me? _No."_

Matsumoto pouted like a spoiled child, but Hitsugaya would not be dissuaded. _Or _persuaded. Nope. Not _this _time. She could pout and whine and bribe and cry all she wanted.

_Not _gonna happen.

"But Tooooushirooooou..._pleeeeeease?"_

Hitsugaya ignored that. "I am your _commanding officer, _the _ultimate _authority of the Tenth Division, and I do _not _appreciate your attempts to ignore that."

Matsumoto pouted again, even more pitifully this time, and bowed her head with a jerk that flopped her hair down to cover her lowered face.

"Fine. I apologize, my wonderful, gracious, glorious, generous, fair, handsome, elegant, regal, _lordly _captain. I humbly request an audience with Your Esteemed Eminence."

The white-haired captain flopped onto his chair with a huff and picked up a pen. "There's work to be done, here. I can't be dealing with such trivial issues right now. _You _have work begging _your _attention as well."

Lifting her head again, Matsumoto scowled at her captain. "I'm not doing anything until you say yes. I'm not _moving _until you say yes."

Hitsugaya groaned and put his head in his hands. "Why do you have to be so difficult? Have you checked the specifics of our ranks? If you look at mine, it says: 'Captain.' You know what that means, right? It means I'm in charge. And _your _rank is 'Vice-Captain.' _That _means you're second-in-command. You're the _second _authority in this division. As in, _not first. _Know who's first? _I'm _first. I'm above your station. I'm more powerful than you. _My word is law_."

Huffing herself, Matsumoto turned her nose up and closed her eyes, clearly not paying attention anymore. Her mind was made up, and there would be no more negotiation on the matter.

Ignoring the fact that there had never _been _any negotiating in the first place.

"Do I need to go to the First about this? I don't think Yamamoto-soutaichou would appreciate this kind of insubordination."

Usually, the idea of his going to the Commander General with an issue was enough for Matsumoto to grudgingly agree to his word, and so far he hadn't actually needed to speak to Yamamoto about any particular issues regarding Matsumoto's behavior.

This time, however...

Hitsugaya most certainly didn't enjoy the look on his adjutant's face at the moment. In fact, it made him decidedly uncomfortable. As if she were a spider, and he – the prey – had walked cleanly into her web.

"Uh..." he muttered uncertainly, lowering his pen very, very slowly.

Matsumoto sauntered up to her captain's desk, leaning down to look him in the eye, a deviant smirk on her face.

"I wonder how much Yamamoto-soutaichou would appreciate you abusing me on duty...Mister _My-Word-is-Law. _Shall we see...?"

"W-What? What are you talking about?!"

"You don't _remember, _Toushirou? My, my, and here I thought you were so _meticulous..._why, it was just after Gin and Aizen left the living world and went back to Hueco Mundo...you were _clearly _upset, Toushirou, and you...oh, but it _hurts_ just to remember..."

Here she began to cry, clearly forcing it.

"You...you t-took me...by the scarf and...and..._forced _me to kiss you! _Kiss _you! Such slovenly behavior! But what could I do? I'm just a _vice-captain_, I _have _to do whatever my commander wants! But...but it _hurt _me, Toushirou...I thought you were _different!"_

Hitsugaya's face went as pale white as his hair. "But...b-but...that was...I..._you_...you didn't...I didn't...you...but..."

Throwing herself back in a flourish, as if acting in a play to which Hitsugaya was the only audience (he half-expected a spotlight to shine on her), Matsumoto continued to cry. "I'm afraid to tell! Who _knows _what lecherous things you might do to me!"

Hitsugaya continued to stammer incoherently, unable to form a sentence in his near-panic. "Y-You...you...you would..._wouldn't_...you..."

The tears stopped, and Matsumoto's smirk widened considerably, a sadistic, manic twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, but _wouldn't _I...?"

"Gah...I...but...ah...?"

"So...shall we head on over to the First Division headquarters..._Taichou_...?"

"I...but...you...and..._fine!! Keep _it! I...I don't care anymore!"

Matsumoto let out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal of glee.

"Oh, Toushirou, you're such a _sweetheart!"_

Leaning over his desk again, she smashed her lips against her captain's - eliciting a squeak from the younger shinigami that most _certainly _didn't sound like "ultimate authority" - and practically skipped out of the office.

"I'm gonna go find some food and water!" she declared from the hallway.

"I...I..._get back here!"_

_"Thanks_, Toushirou!" she called, barely audible. "I love you!"

About to get up and storm after his giggling subordinate, Hitsugaya fell back into his chair, dumbfounded and nearly speechless.

"I...l-love...you...?"

* * *

"I _hate _you..." 

"Oh, that's not _nice, _Toushirou...come on. It's _cute!"_

"That..._thing _is drinking my tea! _My _tea!"

Hitsugaya snatched the mug away, glaring hatefully. "_My _tea!" he snarled.

The tiny orange ball of fur sitting atop a sheaf of paper looked up at the flustered captain with a blank expression.

"Don't you look at me like that!" Hitsugaya snapped. "I _told _you it was mine, didn't I? _Didn't _I?! And what do you do? You drink it anyway!"

Plucking at his cloak, he added, "Do you know what this is? This says I'm your master! I'm your commander! I'm your _god! _You don't drink your god's tea, do you? _DO YOU?!"_

Matsumoto giggled. "You're being silly, Toushirou. You know he can't understand you."

"Oh, I'll _make _him understand me! I'll make him leave offerings at my doorstep! I'll make him knit me a damned _sweater _if I want to!"

"Don't you listen to Daddy, little one," Matsumoto said soothingly. "He's just frustrated."

The tiny kitten mewed soundlessly and tumbled off the desk into Hitsugaya's lap.

"I—Hey, hey-_hey!_ Who said you could do that?!"

"Toushirou, he's just a baby."

"I wouldn't let a _baby _just plop itself into my lap, either! _I _decide who occupies my lap, thank you very much!"

"Oh, quit it. Drink your tea and get over yourself, _Ultimate Authority."_

"Tch..."

Hitsugaya took a sip of tea – although it was far too jerky and harsh to really be called a _sip – _and slammed the mug down, picking up his pen and digging it into the sheet of paper he'd been writing on almost hard enough to go through into the sheets beneath it.

Things went relatively smoothly for about seventeen seconds.

Then, Hitsugaya jerked. "Hey!" he snapped, glaring down at the tiny animal currently kneading its even tinier claws into his leg. "Stop that, you little vermin!"

"Awww..." Matsumoto cooed, leaning over to look. "He's _purring_, Toushirou...he likes you."

"Good for him. He should show it by doing what I tell him to and _knock it off!"_

Matsumoto frowned. "Toushirou, come on, now. Hush. You're being childish."

"I am _not _being childish! Who was the one who—"

Matsumoto pinched his lips shut. "Hush. Eyes on the goal, my dear little captain. You were the one who said you wanted to work."

Hitsugaya swatted Matsumoto's hand away. "Don't patronize me. _You _started all this."

"Toushirou..."

"Oh..._fine. _Whatever. Just get working. Go!"

Matsumoto smirked and went back to her desk.

Hitsugaya acted flustered and annoyed for the rest of the day, but Matsumoto didn't miss the fact that after a while, the boy captain set a hand down into his lap, idly scratching behind the kitten's ear with his thumb.

As she worked (or pretended to work), Matsumoto wondered if it was a bad thing that she took so much pleasure in irritating her commander.

That night, after Hitsugaya fell asleep at his desk, completely unaware of the sleeping little puff of orange perched atop his head, Matsumoto decided that it wasn't.

It was just fine.

* * *

**_...I don't know._**

**_My uncle's girlfriend brought over a little kitten today, apparently for us to care for through the weekend until a home is found for it, and...what can I say? I'm a sap. Always been a sucker for kittens, I have. So...this little idea popped up. Poor Hitsugaya. You'd think after all that's happened, Matsumoto would cut him some slack. But...well, things just don't happen that way, I guess._**

**_I don't know what to name the little guy. He'll probably show up in future chapters...you know, anywhere that needs a kitten. Captain's meetings, refrigerators, cake mix, Yachiru's pocket (wait...how'd he get in _there?_), wherever._**

**_Anyway, until next time._**

**_Take it easy, everyone._**


	36. Babysitter

_**This was originally posted on FanLib for a contest I took part in recently, which is a large part of the reason why this took so long to finally get posted. Sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy this. School's starting again soon, so while I sincerely hope a delay like this won't happen again, I can't make any guarantees.**_

_**That said, have fun.**_

* * *

"Oi." 

He wondered, but only for a moment, if there was any semblance of a possibility that Kurosaki Ichigo could be taught proper respect for the leaders of his order.

Yes, he'd been thrust into the shinigamis' world abruptly, and the most dangerous mission in Soul Society's history had been thrust upon him, but Hitsugaya had _earned_ his rank, and found it decidedly irritating that some fifteen-year-old upstart felt the right to treat him like this.

It felt all too familiar.

Matsumoto, oblivious to her leader's thoughts (or at least _acting_oblivious; she was far more perceptive of peoples' moods than she let on), waved at the orange-headed boy and proceeded to show him the "newest addition" to the Tenth Division "family."

Ichigo chuckled, scratched behind the kitten's ears, and nodded. "Cute."

"Yeah, so _you_ say," Hitsugaya muttered under his breath. "That thing is a parasite."

"I live with Kon. Don't talk to me about parasites."

Hitsugaya couldn't refute that logic.

"Toushirou wanted to be off home," Matsumoto said. "What did you need us for?"

Ichigo frowned. "I promised the girls I'd take 'em to the movies today, but Shinji's bein' a fuckin' _asshole_ and I can't get 'im to leave me the hell alone. I gotta get training. They like you guys. I thought you might be able to go."

"If I refuse," Hitsugaya muttered, "you'll just use Yuzu to threaten me. Fine. But you owe me. I'm not a babysitter."

"...You aren't?"

The implication was not lost on Matsumoto.

Hitsugaya's scowl left his face as he watched her suddenly go into Predator Mode, and he chuckled as Ichigo sped off away from her and the various items from the surrounding area that she began launching at him.

* * *

"Come on, Toushirou! Cheer up! Have fun!" 

"Oh, but I'm _having_ fun..." Hitsugaya muttered. "I'm positively _effervescent_; can't you tell?"

Matsumoto gathered up the snacks and drinks she'd procured (most of which was for her; Hitsugaya wondered if she planned on giving _any _to Ichigo's sisters), rolling her eyes at him.

"It's no wonder you scowl so much, Toushirou. What's life for if you don't have fun with it? This is a chance to relax."

"Yes. Relax. _That's_ the word I forgot. You know, Rangiku, I'm not paying Urahara for repairs when you pull a muscle trying to carry all that."

"As if her back wasn't straining enough as it is," Karin muttered.

Hitsugaya suddenly had to bite his lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Holding his hand over his mouth, he snickered madly, pointedly ignoring the sudden glare from his vice-captain.

"Watch your mouth, Missy," Matsumoto snapped. "I have _no_ problem with hurting small children."

She turned her scathing eyes on her captain. "And _you—"_

"Am not a small child. Don't even go there. Come on, now. If you want to get to the movie on time, then get moving. You spent nearly a half-hour buying all that."

"We got here forty-five minutes early."

"And it's a good thing we did."

Hitsugaya started off down the hall, and Yuzu was quick to follow him. Matsumoto and Karin walked slower, Matsumoto glaring daggers into the girl's head, and Karin pointedly ignoring her because she knew it would make her angrier.

_Might as well get _some_ entertainment out of this, _Karin thought.

* * *

Yuzu was practically skipping as they left the theater, giggling like some demented clown (something she'd picked up from her father, probably), and when she did stop and wait for them, she bounced from foot to foot, unable to contain her excitement, as if the movie hadn't even started yet, even though it was over, and the suspense was killing her. 

"Wasn't that the _best_, Hitsugaya-niichan?" she asked, eyes glowing.

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, more than a little unnerved by the girl's tone, finding a threatening edge in it that just shouldn't have been there.

"Uh...yes. It was surprising, Yuzu. I...I enjoyed it immensely."

Yuzu giggled again, satisfied, and whirled around, pushing open the door and holding it open for an elderly couple walking in.

Glancing at Karin, he muttered, "I haven't found a bigger waste of time since trying to have a real conversation with your father..."

Karin snickered.

"Now, now, be nice. Isshin-san is just excitable. Some adults just don't like the idea of maturity."

"You talk as though you've met someone like that _before,"_ Hitsugaya said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"Are you insinuating something, Toushirou?"

"Not at all."

Matsumoto scowled, then smirked.

Hitsugaya yelled as the as-of-yet-unnamed kitten latched onto his head. "Hey! Get...get that thing off me! Where were you _keeping_ i—Ow! Damn it!"

Matsumoto walked out of the theater with a smug look on her face. "When will you learn, Shiro-chan? Being childish is _so_ much more entertaining."

When Ichigo found them a few minutes later to escort his sisters home, he stopped and stared at Hitsugaya, face scratched and hair disheveled.

"Uh...I don't think I want to ask how you managed to get yourself assaulted at a kid's movie."

"Would you like a slightly used vice-captain?" Hitsugaya grunted. "I accept cash or credit card. No checks, please."

He lifted the kitten by the scruff of the neck.

"Free cat with purchase."


	37. Homecoming

**_It's been a long time, and I know that I said on my profile that I'd be taking a break. But that didn't stop me from trying, and today I finally managed to get into the mood enough to write something. I've had this idea in my head for a long time, ever since reading the first prequel chapter of the manga which just happened to star my favorite couple. Must commemorate that, mustn't I? So, I put this together._**

_**Sorry for the abysmally long wait. My brain hasn't been working too well lately.**_

* * *

Matsumoto was used to a quiet captain.

Hitsugaya was a generally brooding individual, who found it much more preferable to live within his own head than deal with others. Matsumoto had met any number of people just like him, and so she had long since grown to accept it.

"Oi! Toushirou! C'mon, talk to me!"

...Sometimes.

Hitsugaya, to his credit, was used to a _loud _adjutant. He knew that his second was almost _never _content to let her thoughts go unannounced, and that she sometimes simply _had _to talk.

So, he generally ignored it.

He'd learned to ignore loud people a long, long time ago.

"Would you tell me where we're going?"

He looked around at the old buildings, basking in the mist of nostalgia, and found it rather amusing that he felt at peace here. Here, in this place that had been so stifling, so confining. This place had been like a prison to him, and now...it felt like home.

He looked back at his new prison, at the walls that held him in so often, and marveled at the irony. He turned his attention back to the dirt crunching beneath his feet and almost laughed.

The grass really was greener, even if it didn't grow.

* * *

Eventually, Matsumoto gave up. Marvel of marvels, she gave up.

Contenting herself with stroking the tiny head of the still-nameless kitten that she had taken to calling the two-and-a-half seat of the Tenth Division, she simply sighed and looked around, alternating between smiling and glaring at the innumerable men who stopped to stare at her.

The braver ones, who took that smile much more literally than they should have, never got close enough to "strike up conversation," because the temperature had the strangest habit of dropping to near-freezing whenever they tried.

Hitsugaya's expression never changed, and his eyes never strayed from straight ahead.

She wondered what had him so preoccupied. Not like it was anything _new, _of course, but it wasn't like her captain was the sort to let his mind wander aimlessly.

Hitsugaya Toushirou's mind never wandered.

She knew that it wasn't an assignment that had him walking through the streets of Junrinan, else he would have told her. And yet, he had taken her along.

"Am I going to have to guess why we're here?"

She didn't expect an answer, and he didn't disappoint.

"What do you think, little one?" she asked the kitten. "Hm? Why's Daddy all quiet-like? Do you think he's getting Mommy a birthday present?"

The cat was no more talkative than Hitsugaya was.

* * *

He stopped at a place that was no more remarkable than any other, but for some reason Matsumoto found it familiar. She stared at the house for some time, wondering why.

Hitsugaya looked both nervous and elated. He stood still for a long while before finally drawing in a deep breath and walking up and knocking on the door, quickly enough that he couldn't convince himself not to.

Matsumoto walked, more slowly, up to her captain's side, and heard a soft, elderly voice call out for them to come in.

Hitsugaya stiffened at the sound of the woman's voice, and memories began swirling up into Matsumoto's head as she followed him inside.

The woman who lived in the house was, like most elderly folk in Soul Society, positively ancient. It wouldn't have surprised Matsumoto to hear that this woman was as old as the commander-general.

Despite that, the sparkle in her eyes was vibrant, aware, and Matsumoto thought she would remain that way for a good, long time. The wonders of the afterlife, she supposed. The second half of the cycle went on so much longer than the first.

Hitsugaya sat before the woman, and Matsumoto followed suit.

The woman seemed not to be paying any attention to the two of them as she set about making tea. Hitsugaya waited, silent and still nervous, and accepted the cup he was offered only after the woman offered it a second time.

"It's been a while," she said finally.

Hitsugaya nodded, chagrined. "It...it has."

"Don't you worry," the woman said with a laugh. "I know how you are. So busy. Busy enough to forget that you don't have to prove anything to anyone. I think you've made your point now, don't you think?"

"...Maybe."

The woman laughed, and Matsumoto smiled slightly.

"And who is _this _lovely lady?" the woman asked, handing Matsumoto a cup of her own, which she accepted gratefully – the first time.

When Hitsugaya didn't answer immediately, the woman went on.

"I knew you'd come back, Toushirou," she said, "when you finally had enough control over yourself to be confident. But I always thought–" here she chuckled "-Bed-Wetter Momo would be with you."

Hitsugaya flinched. "Y-Yes, well..."

"How _is _she?"

"She's...she's well enough," he said. "A...new captain has been appointed to her division. She's...adapting."

"Good for her. I heard what happened."

Noting that neither of them seemed to be enjoying this line of conversation, the woman smiled wryly.

"...Is _that _why she isn't here?"

"Something like that," Hitsugaya murmured softly, taking a slow drink and averting his eyes. "We...we don't talk much anymore."

"_You _never did much talking in the first place," the woman said, and at this Matsumoto actually laughed.

Hitsugaya blushed faintly, and drew in a deep breath.

"...Granny..."

The word sounded foreign coming from him, and he seemed to realize this because he stopped as soon as he'd said it, seemed about to amend himself, and then stopped again.

"Yes, Toushirou?" the woman asked softly.

He looked up and smiled, reaching over thoughtlessly and taking hold of one of Matsumoto's hands. Matsumoto smiled, sipping at her tea and winking at the old woman she had first met years and years before.

"I...I want you to meet someone."


	38. Insubordination

_**In an attempt to make up for how long you've all been waiting, I've decided to upload this chapter, which I likely could have split up into several. This marks the longest chapter I've written so far, and an attempt to get back into the swing of writing these characters after quite a while away from them.**_

_**I hope that I've managed to keep things in character, but if I haven't, then I apologize. I may need some practice.**_

_**Well, that's enough of that. Let's begin, shall we?  
**_

* * *

Read

Read. Sign. File.

Read. Sign. File. Read. Sign. File.

Read. File.

Sign. Read. File. Sign. File.

Read.

File.

Sleep.

Need sleep? Yes.

File.

Read. Sleep. File.

Read...

...File...

Sleep.

* * *

"...gaya-tai..."

He blinked.

Well, no. He didn't blink. He...mentally blinked. His eyes were still closed, so he _couldn't _blink. But he _thought _he blinked. He...

He shook his head.

"...tsugaya-taichou!"

Ah, yes. Of course. The voice. The distant voice, the voice always heard as one woke up from sleep. Like a train speeding toward the exit of the tunnel. Getting louder. Clearer.

More urgent.

"Hitsugaya-taichou!"

Damn it.

He opened his eyes.

Somebody was shaking him. Who the...what...?

It was a rank-and-file soldier, and Hitsugaya might have been able to remember his name if he'd been even partially coherent. Groaning, he stumbled to his feet before saying a word.

"...What?" he growled.

He finally turned to face the man.

And went pale.

"What?" he asked again, breathlessly.

The man could only point.

Hitsugaya looked.

"...Oh, God."

* * *

"Hinamori-fukutaichou! Tell him quickly! We need to get you to the...!"

Hinamori shoved her fellow shinigami off of her, pulling her arm away, brown eyes wide and wet as she drew in horribly shaky breaths. "H-H-Hitsu...Hit...sugaya...taichou..."

Her voice was barely there. She was holding her neck, blood flowing over her thin, shaking fingers as she stumbled into the office, barely keeping her feet. Her clothing was stained and tattered as if it had been gnawed on by rabid wolves.

Hitsugaya leaped to his feet and practically flew over to her, holding her up just as she began to fall. "Hinamori! What happened to you?!"

"I...it looks...worse than it...than it is..." Hinamori muttered in her haggard rasp. "Ko...Kotetsu...fukutaichou says that...I'll be fine...b-but...but..."

"But nothing!" Hitsugaya shouted. "You're barely conscious! _You! _Why didn't you take her straight to the infirmary?!"

The target of Hitsugaya's anger, a member of Hinamori's own division, quailed beneath the boy captain's glare, but drew in a deep breath and forced himself to stand straight.

"It was...an order...sir. Directly from Madarame-taichou. He ordered that Hinamori-fukutaichou report to you. Kotetsu-fukutaichou has given her a cursory inspection and...signed off on the order. Hinamori-fukutaichou! Tell him, so that we can get you to—"

"Enough!" Hinamori snarled, surprisingly sharply. "I'm not the one that matters here! I'll survive, Sasaki!"

"Not if you continue to push yourself like this, Fukutaichou!"

Hinamori turned her eyes back to Hitsugaya, who was staring at her with a look that was half-fear, half-fury. "Hinamori...what is it? What would your captain deem so important that he would order you to...you could have sent for...what's going on?!"

Hinamori flinched, lowered her eyes, and seemed as if she couldn't bring herself to speak. But in a visual battle with herself, she forced in a deep, shuddering breath, and looked at him.

"...It's Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

The way she said it cut straight into Hitsugaya like a white-hot knife. His face paled, slackened, and his fingers twitched into half-fists.

"Rangiku..."

He vanished too quickly to see.

"Get her to the infirmary!!" came a yell from halfway down the hall, a fraction of a second later.

* * *

"The next time the second in my division is critically injured, I expect a _damned _report _immediately!!"_

No member of any division would have envied Iemura Yasochika's position at that moment. Fury rolled off of Hitsugaya's compact frame like the seething breath of the great serpent within his sword, and it had taken such a furious hold on the white-haired shinigami that his breath puffed out in clouds that were so cold they burned.

"H-H-H-Hitsugaya-s-s-s-s-sama...?"

"Get out of my way!"

Hitsugaya thundered through the infirmary like a hurricane.

"We were j-just about to...to...! S-Someone was already sent...! I..."

_"Save it!!"_ came the snarled reply – that sounded like a roar. "I'm not interested!"

Yasochika rushed after the Tenth Division captain, looking like it was the last thing he wanted to do, and when he saw that Hitsugaya had been stopped in a hallway by Unohana Retsu, he dared to look relieved.

"Hitsugaya-taichou?" Unohana asked in her calm, maternal voice, but it seemed to have no effect on him. "I think I know why you are here."

"Oh, you _think_, do you...?" Hitsugaya hissed, eyes flaring. "Tell me where she is or get the _hell _out of my way."

"I think you might want to calm—"

Hitsugaya shouldered past her. _"Fine."_

"H-Hey!" Yasochika started, holding up a feeble hand. "You can't treat...!"

Unohana held up a hand of her own. "He's distraught. I expected nothing less. Hinamori-fukutaichou was just brought in, and she has worsened her condition substantially. Come with me."

"But...but...he can't...he can't just...I was...!"

"If love caused people to think rationally," Unohana said softly, with a smile, "then it would not be love. Come with me. We must see to Hinamori-fukutaichou."

Yasochika lowered his hand.

He followed his captain.

And blinked suddenly, head snapping up.

"...Love?"

* * *

When Hitsugaya lay eyes on his vice-captain, his heart simultaneously raced and sank.

Matsumoto lay with her eyes closed, bandages covering almost every inch of her, looking like nothing so much as a mummy. The only part of her that was completely untouched was her face, but even it was contorted with pain.

"Rangiku...oh...no...no, _no..."_

He felt any sense of self-control slipping from him faster than his own heartbeat, and wondered if he had ever felt so helpless before.

He didn't think so.

He rushed to his lieutenant's side and took hold of her left hand with both of his, pulling back the urge to cry only because he knew the tears would freeze on his face.

"Rangiku...Rangiku, are you...?"

He stopped the question.

It was a stupid one.

Matsumoto's striking gray eyes fluttered open, and she managed a smile. "You know..." her voice cracked, "...I don't think...that I'll ever get tired...of hearing that name from you..."

Hitsugaya smiled despite himself. "Rangiku...you...oh, for the love of...Rangiku, what _happened?!_"

She reached out with her other hand, the ring finger of which was bent at a horridly wrong angle, and pressed her index finger against his lips. "You...have a...have a lovely voice... Toushirou...but...if you wouldn't mind lowering it...just a bit?"

Hitsugaya bit his lip. "What...what...?"

"One of _them..." _Matsumoto said, some of her voice coming back to her in sudden bitterness. "One of Aizen's...got the jump on us...on patrol. Standard...procedure. No...reason to call for...for backup...we thought. For some reason...he let...let us retreat. The bastard's mocking us...I was going to stay, but...but Hinamori insisted...he hit fast, hard, and I was...was injured long before I'd even realized what the threat was. She...she forced me to come back, and...and I guess she was right."

Hitsugaya blinked at her. "What do you...?"

"If I'd stayed..." Matsumoto said, stroking her captain's cheek with her free hand, "...I probably wouldn't have come back at all...and I'd never have had the chance to...see your face again. And it's...such a handsome face, too..."

Hitsugaya blushed. "Rangiku, don't talk like that...please don't talk like that."

"I know..." Matsumoto's smile widened. "No flirting on the clock...right? Sorry, Taichou."

"No," Hitsugaya said, shaking his head. "Don't...don't talk like you're dying."

She actually laughed.

"Silly boy...I can't die yet. Some people still think it's just a...just a rumor that you've kissed me."

He laughed with her, but it was weak, and died almost instantly. "Rangiku, don't...stress yourself. Just rest. Okay? You need to rest."

"Awww..." Matsumoto said. "Is Taichou-sama worried about me?"

"Taichou-sama is petrified."

Gratitude twinkled in her eyes, and her own grip on her captain's hand tightened.

"I...I love you, Rangiku."

_Don't leave me._

"I love you...love you, too, Toushirou."

_I won't._

* * *

"Well, lookie here. Ain't _you_ two cozy?"

Hitsugaya turned sharply at the sound of that voice, and watched as Ikkaku and Yumichika followed a member of the fourth division as she rolled a stretcher – carrying an unconscious Hinamori – into the room.

"Madarame."

Ikkaku shrugged, for once without a grin plastered on his face. "That'd be my name, a'right. Somethin' wicked out there, ain't it? Did a number on _your _second, too, I see."

Hitsugaya didn't miss the sudden flash of anger that rose on Ikkaku's face as he looked at Matsumoto.

"So many people...worried about little old me..." Matsumoto murmured.

"Got good reason to, crazy lady," Ikkaku said. "Damn near got yourself killed. Soutaichou's sayin' we oughtta stay low on this one, play the defensive cards. Take this slow. One o' Aizen's big boys, I guess, if it's got the old man tuckin' his tail between 'is legs. Either that 'r he's just gettin' paranoid."

"No one's _on _this?" Hitsugaya asked sharply. "Are you goddamn _kidding _me?!"

"_Somebody's_ pissed," Ikkaku noted. "Don't often hear words like _that _come outta Mister Tightwad-Tenth. Yeah, that's basically the rundown, 'fraid to say."

"So...is that why you're here?" Hitsugaya asked sharply, dangerously. "To tell me that I should sit on my hands and wait like a good little boy?"

Ikkaku smirked. "Who you think you're talkin' to? No, Hitsugaya, I'm here to cover for your ass. Now go freeze that bastard's face for me."

He glanced at Matsumoto and Hinamori again.

"...For them."

And Hitsugaya realized that was precisely what he wanted to do. At the thought of it, he felt his blood sing with anticipation, and his right shoulder twitched, arm instinctively beginning to reach for Hyourinmaru's hilt.

Ikkaku crossed his arms.

"Zaraki's goin' out. Back you up. This guy's mean, pullin' shit like that on a vice-captain. Ya can't afford to think like a boyfriend if yer gonna take this prick down."

"Think like a..."

"Don't even try, lover boy. Ol' receptionist, Yasochika, damn near wetting himself out there. You tore off his damn head, and you know well as I do what you did _that _for. Now go. Show this son of a bitch who we are."

Hitsugaya hesitated.

"Go on," Matsumoto said. "Stake your claim, Taichou."

"That's _not _what—"

"I know," she cut him off. "You don't think of it like that. I'm glad you don't. But...I can't handle this one. Any more than I could...handle Gin. So...go. Please. End it."

Hitsugaya scowled.

He took her hand in both of his again, brought it to his lips and kissed it. Matsumoto smiled, and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and letting out a slightly relieved, but still painful, moan.

Hitsugaya let go, bit back a cry (damned if he was going to lose it in front of Madarame Ikkaku), and stalked toward the door. And when he spoke next, he almost sounded like himself.

"I'm going for a walk."

* * *

Did this one have a name?

Hitsugaya didn't know it.

He didn't care to know it.

The cocksure bastard hadn't even bothered to _try _hiding himself. When Hitsugaya found him, he seemed to have stumbled across a pair of patrollers. If forced to guess, he might have pegged them as part of Hisagi's ninth division.

"The Gotei 13!" the arrancar crowed. "Well, well! Such magnificence! I can see why Aizen-sama is taking things so slowly! I don't think I would dare to cross you!"

The two shinigami attempting to stave him off weren't even trying to fight; they were scrambling to defend. The arrancar's weapons were...something like pincers. Or...or...scissors.

Yes. Scissors.

Two...pair, on the ends of each arm. They snipped and tore and pinched and plunged, and it was clear to Hitsugaya that he—no, _it _was simply playing with them. This was no fight. This was no battle. This was...hunting.

Hitsugaya fully intended to keep it that way.

As he stalked forward, Hyourinmaru took flight.

The great dragon crashed onto one of the arrancar's arms, and it whirled to face its new prey.

"Save the speeches. No one cares to listen."

"Well, well! New fish! Step right up, then, shinigami!"

Hitsugaya's face twitched.

He shot forward, leaping into the air. "If we're going to exchange inane non-pleasantries, then I suppose it's my turn: I am going to kill you. Deal with it."

He gave in to the fever.

And the world erupted.

* * *

"I don't think...I've ever seen him like that."

Matsumoto couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. Here she was, lying in a hospital room next to Hinamori Momo, and she _didn't _want to strangle her.

"You'd be surprised," Matsumoto replied. "He...doesn't let it show often. I'm not surprised he'd have wanted to hide it from you. But...Toushirou is...well, don't let him know I said this, but he's...vulnerable. He still feels insecure here...and he fights it. By ignoring it. But sometimes...sometimes he loses his grip. And...and it's just..."

"It's wrong," Hinamori said softly, almost awe-stricken. "It's wrong that he should feel so sad...so lonely...that he should think that he has to hold it all together by himself... I've been so stupid..."

Hinamori covered her face with one arm and winced at the pain that shot up her wounded shoulder.

"So long as you know that," Matsumoto said.

"I do...I know now. And...and I never did thank you for being honest with me. You're the reason I really understand it, and...and...well, I'm glad he's with you."

Matsumoto turned and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I...I always had to be protected," Hinamori said miserably. "I guess I still do. Madarame-taichou is hard on me, but...but I know he wants to protect me, just like Hitsugaya-taichou did...like I thought Aizen-tai...like I thought Aizen did. And...and...with you, well...you can protect _him_...and he needs that. He needs...he needs someone to back him. Not someone to keep out of trouble."

Matsumoto laughed.

"Ironic, you saying that now. Look at us. We're _both_ helpless. I can barely lift my arm."

"You still...give him a reason to fight," Hinamori said. "And he needs that, too. So...so maybe this is okay, too...sometimes. You just...do it better than I did."

"You may be doing it for the right reasons now," Matsumoto replied, "but you're still pitying yourself too much. There's more to you than mistakes, girl. There'd better be, 'cuz _I've _made a ton of mistakes in my own right."

Hinamori smiled.

Matsumoto smiled back.

And both wondered if perhaps they could be friends...when this was over.

* * *

Zaraki looked about ready to explode.

Yumichika supposed he wasn't really surprised at his own behavior. Yes, he was part of the Fifth now, but somehow, standing beside Zaraki Kenpachi's gargantuan frame still felt more than a little like home.

The volatile, sadistically charged captain had a fierce, animalistic grip on his sword's hilt, and Yumichika had to wonder what it was that was keeping him from jumping in.

Hitsugaya was doing remarkably, of course, being a boy genius and all, but really...there was no clear indicator that the captain of the Tenth would win.

He really didn't want to go back to the Fourth Division infirmary and tell Matsumoto that her darling captain was dead...he was never much a fan of bad news, really. It was ugly. Obscenely ugly.

And really...he rather liked Hitsugaya Toushirou.

"Zaraki-taichou? Perhaps it would be prudent now to...lend a hand. We _are _here against orders. Better to come back and face possible punishment with victory on our shoulders, rather than defeat. Wouldn't you say?"

Zaraki grunted.

"...Guess yer right," he muttered in a guttural tone.

He seemed pleased to say it.

And as he strode forward, Yumichika saw something he wasn't sure he thought he'd ever see.

Zaraki Kenpachi ripped off his eyepatch _before _the fight.

"'S'ain't no fight!" Zaraki snarled, laughter in his voice, and Yumichika blinked, wondering if his former captain had just read his mind. "This is a goddamn execution!"

And Yumichika followed the Eleventh's captain's lead, wondering just what Hitsugaya had done to invoke such loyalty in a man like Zaraki.

* * *

With the efforts of Zaraki combined with Hitsugaya's, the arrancar that Aizen-sama had deemed unfit to name (one of many, of course) hadn't any semblance of a chance at victory.

The problem was, it didn't know that.

And it kept up the fight, screaming and cursing and cutting and slashing, and yet the only one bleeding seemed to be itself. Pain, such horrendous, ripping pain! And shame!

No! It would _earn _a name! It would win!

Yes...it would win!

But then the sky itself seemed to open its mouth, as if to laugh, but the nameless arrancar knew what this meant. Yes, it knew what this meant, and it dared to grin.

Who was it? Who had come?

Was it...was it...?

Oh, God.

No.

No, no, no! _Anybody_ else! God, let it be—

"Well, well, well...lookie there. Somebody's _maaaad! _Look at that! And Zaraki Kenpachi...wow. You done started up a party, here, din'tcha?"

Hitsugaya froze in mid-strike.

"...Ichimaru."

"Hiya, 'Gaya!" he chirped happily, and even Zaraki blinked incredulously at him.

* * *

Ichimaru Gin strolled forward on the air, almost looking like he was skipping, and leaned against one arm of the nameless arrancar like it was a post.

"Lookit this...what a mess we got here. Why, look! Blood dripping off everywhere! Ain't this a shame...well! Who done started this party?"

The odd thing about it was, Ichimaru's demeanor didn't seem all that threatening. On the contrary, it felt legitimately cheery, and it seemed like...like he really _had _just gone out for a walk.

The stifling, chilling aura about the man that Hitsugaya was used to just wasn't there. And he thought that _this _must have been the man that his vice-captain had once called her best friend.

"Don't go actin' like you dunno what happened!" Zaraki snarled, grinning his maniac's grin. "We were just playin' with your little friend, here! Got a score to settle!"

"Score?" Ichimaru inquired innocently, and it sounded sincere. "Well, now...what's this? Whatcha been up to, there?"

He directed this at the arrancar, and the scissor-handed creature looked as if it were about to wet itself, if something like that could actually happen.

And for some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint, Hitsugaya felt compelled to tell him.

"Rangiku's in critical condition," he said icily. "She almost died because of this maggot."

Ichimaru's grin vanished, and if at all possible, the arrancar looked even more terrified.

"...What."

Gin's eyes actually opened widely enough for Hitsugaya to see their crimson gleam. And without warning, Ichimaru gripped his subordinate by one of its white, grotesquely long arms and launched it - screaming - into the portal from which he'd come.

Ichimaru watched Hitsugaya, Zaraki, and turned his gaze fleetingly to Yumichika before disappearing through it himself.

Hyourinmaru lowered slowly, held in a limp hand.

Hitsugaya blinked.

"Did...that just happen?"

And the funny thing was, Zaraki looked like he wasn't sure.

* * *

"I-I-I-I-Ichimaru-sama! W-W-Wait! What are you...! Why are you...! Give me a chance! I won't fail you, p-p-p-please!!"

Ichimaru Gin turned, and his face was somber.

"Won' fail me?" he repeated, barely moving his lips. "That right...? You...won't fail me. Huh. Well...ain't that sumthin'."

"I-I-I'll do...I'll do anything!! Give me another chance to prove myself! I won't...! I won't...!"

"...Anythin'. Well, now...that's jus' a bit of a probl'm, I'd say...'cuz, uh..."

Shinsou appeared in its master's hand.

"What I want you t' do..."

It gleamed.

"...is..."

It flashed.

"...die."

It drank.

And when Ichimaru faced Aizen Sousuke again, his grin was back, and he reported the execution of a nameless arrancar, for the crime of "botchin' 'is first kill."

And when Aizen asked his former subordinate if that was all he had to report, Ichimaru looked him straight in the eye and nodded.

"There is...no other reason...for this execution, Gin?"

Ichimaru shrugged. "Felt like it?"

Aizen smiled serenely. "I see. Well, then...I suppose that's all."

"S'pose so."

* * *

Hitsugaya walked slowly back into the Fourth Division's infirmary abjectly ignoring a summons to the First Division's headquarters. The messenger in charge of delivering this order attempted to stop the boy captain, but didn't quite find the courage to stand up to him...not with Zaraki Kenpachi strolling behind him like a bodyguard.

And as he approached the room in which Hinamori and Matsumoto were recuperating, he thought that every member of the Fifth, Tenth, and Eleventh divisions was standing vigil outside. And as he passed by each of them, they nodded.

Hitsugaya entered the room, and Zaraki and Yumichika joined the others.

Hinamori was sleeping, but when he approached, Matsumoto opened her eyes and smiled. Hitsugaya was tired, keeping his back rigid only by the greatest of willpower, but essentially uninjured.

He answered her unspoken question with a curt nod.

Matsumoto smiled.

"You're...beautiful. You know that, don't you?"

Hitsugaya kissed her.

And although she stiffened as she tried to wrap her arms around his neck, she stubbornly did so anyway, and the pain didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

* * *

It would never be known whether Hitsugaya left the door to Matsumoto's room open on purpose or not, but as he stepped outside to allow his vice-captain to rest, he seemed not all that inclined to hide the fact that his face was flushed or that his hair was more disheveled than it had been.

It was hard to tell which of the three divisions currently standing guard cheered the loudest, but he found himself laughing right alongside them, adrenaline rushing through him like the heat of the strongest alcohol, and he didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

Unohana ushered the crowd out of her headquarters with a smile on her face, but it seemed like that smile was what drove most of them out.

As Hitsugaya left and made his way toward his own division's base, his soldiers walking in front of him, he spied Kyouraku Shunsui watching him from beneath a nearby tree, chuckling.

Hitsugaya smiled at his compatriot, nodded, and didn't seem surprised in the slightest when he was informed later that evening that the order to report to the Commander-General had been withdrawn.


	39. The Newbie

_**This is something of an experiment. A new character, for the sake of spice, I guess you'd say. Let me know what you think. If you like him, or like the conflict he brings to the plate, then maybe I'll work him in more solidly. If not, then he's pretty easy to get rid of at this point. So, tell me what you think of our newest addition.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

"I hate him."

Hinamori Momo didn't exactly consider herself an expert on social interaction, but she was almost positive that _that _hardly counted as a proper opener to a conversation. Nonetheless, she had never been all that keen on confrontations. And she figured that it would be especially tactless on her part not to appease Matsumoto, of all people, and therefore chose not to mention that.

Instead, she said, "Oh?"

She wasn't all that good with appeasement, either.

"'Kudo-taichou.' Right. Far be it from me to criticize the commander-general, but that old man's slipping."

Hinamori still wasn't sure if she was altogether comfortable around her fellow vice-captain yet. They had become...somewhat closer ever since they had both nearly died together, but every so often, she still thought she caught a glimpse of almost-homicidal irritation in Matsumoto's eyes.

"...Kudo-taichou may not be...the best candidate," Hinamori allowed, "but we _are _in the middle of a crisis. Kira-kun's been way too stressed lately."

Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "He may not be the most intelligent man in the world, but Abarai has _some _leadership in him. Let _him _take over the Third Division, and Kuchiki can find himself a new vice-captain."

Hinamori shrugged. "I...I guess that would work, but...Kudo-taichou must be doing an adequate job, or Yamamoto-soutaichou would have gotten rid of him...right?"

Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "Adequacy? Maybe. Doesn't stop me from wanting to send my sword through his teeth. Okay, so...you hold him down after your captain breaks his limbs, and I..."

Matsumoto lapsed into a string of incoherent threats.

Hinamori wondered if Kudo Hideaki realized how many enemies he had made during his short time as the new Third Division captain.

* * *

"I hate him."

Hitsugaya, unlike his childhood friend, had made a name for himself being especially tactful, and knew better than just about anyone how to appease Matsumoto Rangiku.

He wasn't in much of an appeasing mood at the moment, however.

"Kudo is the spiritual successor to Ichimaru," he muttered as he sifted through his paperwork. "Say what you want about him now, but you _used _to find that sort of personality appealing."

"Gin was cocky, arrogant, lazy, maybe a womanizer," Matsumoto admitted, "but he _also _had something to offset that: _skill. _You know, Toushirou. You fought him. Tell me Kudo-taichou would last four seconds against him."

Hitsugaya snorted. "Fair point."

"He hit on me!" Matsumoto cried.

"I'd have thought you would be used to that by now."

"Yes, but he's a _slime bucket!"_

Hitsugaya shrugged.

Matsumoto suddenly glared. "Hey! Hold on, here! Don't think I don't remember that stunt you pulled in the infirmary! Everybody knows! We're...official now! You can't just sit there and let him hit on me!"

"Words mean nothing," Hitsugaya said. "If I silenced every man who hit on you, no one would be left. Has he touched you?"

"Not yet."

"If he does, _then_ we have a problem. Otherwise, consider this a challenge."

"And if he _does _touch me, do I have leave to kill him?"

"No."

Matsumoto glared.

Hitsugaya glanced at her. "If he touches you, _I _will kill him."

* * *

"Am I the _only _one with a moral objection to having _children _in this organization?"

"Yup," Ikkaku muttered.

Kudo frowned. "I don't know about you all, but...I think it's wrong. I mean, what does it say about us, that we will send children onto the field of war?"

"That age isn't relevant," Hitsugaya said sharply. "Barring that, Kudo, _nobody _looks their age in this place, if you haven't caught onto that yet."

"Oh, sure, _technically," _came the reply, "but...well...you have to admit...we would be better served with someone...well, more developed?"

"I'm a fair share more developed than you are, Kudo," Hitsugaya replied, "in any area that truly counts in this discussion you've decided to delay this meeting for. And I would _love _to see you stop Kusajishi from doing her work."

Zaraki scowled, deeper than usual, and when Kudo looked incredulously up at him, he grinned. "Wanna give it a shot, newbie? She's been bored lately. I'm sure she'll make ya right comfortable."

Ikkaku chuckled, and Renji smirked.

"Oh, wonderful," Kudo said haughtily, rolling his eyes. "Make light of the problem."

"You _do _realize this is only a problem by _your _definition," Matsumoto put in. "Yachiru acts, and _looks, _like a baby, but she can take care of herself better than a lot of us. Nobody _knows _the extent of her skills. And as for Toushirou..."

"Don't fuck with that one," Ikkaku put in.

"Toushirou," Kudo said, raising an eyebrow. "Nice to see you have such respect for your captain."

"I would appreciate you not judging my practices," Hitsugaya snapped, "until my efficiency is brought into question. If she wants to call me by my given name, she can very well do so. It's _my _call. Not yours."

Kudo seemed faintly taken aback by this.

"I would remind you, Kudo," came a sudden voice from the head of the room, "that Hitsugaya Toushirou has ever shown an exemplary performance since his instatement. So, as to your assertion that his closeness to his adjutant will present a _problem _in the future, it will be dealt with _if _it happens. Otherwise, I would appreciate it if you remain silent on that matter and any of your other grievances. None of us have any time to spare on your personal crusades."

Kudo sighed, bowing. "Yes, Soutaichou," he muttered. "I _still _think it—"

"How _dare _you?" Matsumoto suddenly said. "You're judging my relationship with my captain, a relationship that I _might _remind you is _quite _reliant on trust, as problematic? And _who _was the one who wanted to _take me out _last week?"

"That..." Yamamoto said sharply before Kudo could respond, "...will be quite enough. _I _have a matter to discuss, Kudo, and I daresay it is _faintly _more important than petty jealousy. Now _be quiet."_

Kudo went slightly pale, eyes darting around at each of his fellows and realizing that none of them had particularly friendly faces. And any number of them, like Ikkaku and Zaraki, were downright hostile.

He didn't say a word for the remainder of the meeting.

* * *

"I give it two more days 'fore he gets his fool ass killed."

Hitsugaya sighed heavily. "I know that we are hurting, but I begin to wonder how the man managed this. He is apparently...a fair hand with a blade, but I think he would have been far better served as a vice-captain first."

"You 'n me both," Ikkaku muttered, "but I ain't so sure he's even good enough for _that. _I got half a mind to test the theory, ya wanna know the truth."

Hitsugaya couldn't say he _liked _the man Yamamoto had appointed to replace Ichimaru, but he supposed that it was a minor annoyance. In all honesty, he had been waiting for someone to criticize his relationship with his vice-captain for a long time now.

After Hinamori and Matsumoto had both been injured so grievously, the decision had been made that the remaining empty positions in the Third and Ninth divisions needed to be filled. So far, only the Third had been posted.

It made sense that the only person so far to question his and Matsumoto's...closeness, as Yamamoto had put it, would be the new guy. No one else was stupid enough to try.

Kudo Hideaki was a most unsavory combination of Kyouraku Shinsui and Ichimaru Gin, and Hitsugaya for one was waiting for him to make enough mistakes to be discharged or killed. There was enough eccentricity in the ranks as it was; he didn't want more.

"He's keen on yer woman, y'know," Ikkaku said. "Gonna do somethin' about it?"

"If I don't trust her," Hitsugaya said, "how is she to trust me? Let him try. I have more important matters to worry about. Besides...he's so horrendous at his attempts that I don't think it would work on _anyone, _much less someone used to such advances."

Ikkaku laughed. "Yeah, guess you got a point, there."

* * *

"Listen, I...I, uh...just—"

"Talk quickly, Kudo," Hitsugaya all but growled. "I had fully intended to ignore your existence for the rest of the day, and you're infringing on that. What do you want?"

Matsumoto seemed pleased. She smirked, crossing her arms and gliding to a stop beside her captain as Kudo, flustered, wiped his hands on his cloak. She grudgingly admitted to herself that the man was aesthetically appealing; he was tanned, well-muscled but not obscenely so, and he _did _have the same advantage as Kyouraku in that the stubble on his chin actually enhanced his appearance rather than detracting from it. She might have enjoyed the game he had been trying so desperately to play, if not for...certain circumstances.

The smile she might have found charming was instead instantly grating.

"I wanted to, ah...apologize for my conduct, today..."

"Did you, now?" Hitsugaya asked sharply. "And are you under the impression, then, that you deserve the _chance _to apologize? You questioned my ability to lead my division, Kudo, based on nothing but my perceived age, and I don't know about you but _I _find that to be rather insulting, _especially _considering that you have worn the mantle of a captain for a scant few _weeks."_

Kudo flinched, and he looked sheepishly down at the ground, and it did Hitsugaya's heart well to see it. This was not to say that he was any less irritated with the man, but it did help _some. _The vindictive side of the boy captain was somewhat sated for now. "Yes, well...I...I do...a-apologize for that. I suppose...I've a lot to learn about...about our organization. I...I understand if...if you are not inclined to forgive my insult, but...but perhaps...eventually...well, I am sorry. I just wanted you to know that.

_Oh, I know it, _Hitsugaya thought.

Kudo dared to nod in Matsumoto's direction, offering what looked like was supposed to be an apologetic but still dazzlingly charming grin. All it did was to make Matsumoto's face darken even further. Clearing his throat quickly, Kudo turned to leave. "Ah, well...I'll...leave you to your business, then."

"Kudo."

The night was crisp, a fair night to be out, but in what felt like a switch being turned, it seemed to drop to freezing. Suddenly, Hitsugaya's breath puffed out like smoldering smoke, and Kudo began to shiver unconsciously. He turned.

"Y-Yes...?"

Green eyes flashed. "Let your eyes drift any lower than my vice-captain's face again, and I'll cut out your heart."

Whether it was the sudden grin on Matsumoto's face or the blank slate on Hitsugaya's, Kudo Hideaki suddenly had pressing business to attend to. Far away. And the next day, neither Hitsugaya nor Matsumoto saw him at all.

Kira informed them that his captain had fallen ill.

* * *

_**So...did I call it or did I call it? Anybody keeping tabs on the manga recently will of course know what I'm talking about. I'm fairly impressed with Hinamori's more recent actions in canon, and I'm relieved to see Kubo give her a chance. It's not quite enough, but it's surely a step in the right direction for her, don't you think?**_


	40. Forest for the Trees

_**It's funny to think about how this story has evolved. I'll admit that the transition to HitsuMatsu was a surprise. I had simply intended to write a little story about my favorite Bleach characters, because I noticed that whenever I would read others' work, I would search for stories with Hitsugaya and/or Matsumoto in them, and I noticed a dearth of them. That wasn't right, I thought. So why not fix the problem? And so I started.**_

_**Now look at this. 40 chapters later, it's now a full-on romance story. Or, at the very least, there's a romance at the focal point of it. Things have evolved into something I never would have envisioned, and I can't help but marvel at the response I've gotten. Thank you, my faithful audience, for sticking with me for so long. Just look at what we've created. I think we're doing pretty good.  
**_

* * *

"It's odd."

Kyouraku made a curious sound in his throat, not the least bit surprised by his fellow captain's presence. Hitsugaya approached slowly, looking thoughtful and a bit apprehensive. He stopped and stood to Kyouraku's left, and the Eighth Divison captain lifted his hat a bit to look up at his younger compatriot.

They were atop the roof of the Eighth Division's barracks, one of Kyouraku's favorite places to think, drink, and nap; he often said that working too often only served to wear out both the mind and the body, and that frequent breaks were necessary to ensure peak performance, especially for captain-level shinigami. It was clear to just about every other soldier in Soul Society that this was a simple excuse, but nobody bothered even trying to point this out anymore.

Kyouraku Shunsui _was _one of their best, after all.

"Any number of things are odd, Toushirou-kun," the bearded captain offered. "Of what are you speaking now?"

He did not bother to ask Hitsugaya why he was there, and Hitsugaya had known that he wouldn't. That, he thought, was one reason he'd sought out Kyouraku in the first place; it had been instinctual.

"…Everything," the boy captain said.

"Mm," Kyouraku replied. "I see."

Hitsugaya sat at the edge of the roof and sighed. "I took…I took Rangiku to Junrinan recently," he said. "To…meet my grandmother."

Kyouraku perked up at this. He rose from where he'd been lying down to a sitting position. "Oh?" he asked. "Is that right?"

Hitsugaya nodded. "It seemed…right. Natural. The next logical step. I…haven't seen Granny in several decades, you know." Kyouraku noted that Hitsugaya said "Granny" with a sudden softness, a fondness, that was very rare for him. "Ever since I first entered Seireitei. And she said…she said that she always expected me to bring Hinamori with me…the next time I came home."

Kyouraku's almost gleeful interest softened, sobered, into thoughtful silence. Hitsugaya looked at hi after a moment, as if expecting a response. "I see…well, that's logical enough. You and Hinamori-chan were all but…well, I _would _say inseparable, but I suppose that isn't true, is it? But you _are _close, even now. You grew up together. Surely your grandmother saw that better than any of us."

Hitsugaya nodded. "That's…that's what I mean. It seemed…before, it felt like it was only natural that it would be Hinamori. I fully expected, perhaps even intended, that it would be Hinamori. But…"

"Do you regret your final decision?"

"No!" Hitsugaya snapped, looking almost angry. "Of course not. Not at all. I just…it's…it's confusing."

"Obviously."

"I spent…so many years, so sure that it would be Hinamori. Like…like we were meant to be together. I was…positive."

"Minds can change, Toushirou-kun. So can hearts."

Hitsugaya nodded. "I just…I wonder when things changed. When my surety began to waver. When…when we began to drift."

Kyouraku frowned. "Toushirou-kun, _you _didn't begin to drift until recently. I don't like to speak ill of my comrades, especially our young ladies, but…you _didn't _instigate that."

"I thought…I wasn't good enough. That I…that I pushed her away."

"Of course you did. You're a man. And you're also a leader. And we men, especially those of us stupid enough to lead others, always blame ourselves."

Hitsugaya looked at him. "…What?"

"We're chauvinists, Toushirou-kun. To us, women can do no wrong. They're too pure, too innocent, to do wrong. It must be us. It's how we think. And maybe your viewpoint isn't that broad, but at the very least, the people you care about can do no wrong."

Kyouraku grinned. "You grew, that's all. And when people grow, things change. Especially perspective. You love Hinamori-chan, and I think you always have. But the manner of that love has changed. There's nothing wrong with that. You aren't to blame for that, and it isn't something you should concern yourself with. There are varying types of love."

"I feel like…I've betrayed her. Like I'm betraying both of them. Hinamori for loving Rangiku, and…and Rangiku for feeling guilty about it."

Kyouraku looked at the white-haired captain for a moment, then sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Toushirou-kun…I'm beginning to think that you're doomed to feel guilty forever. It seems like a part of your nature by now. But…you needn't beat yourself up for this. If love wasn't confusing sometimes, well…it wouldn't be so much fun."

Hitsugaya still didn't look convinced. "It still doesn't…feel right. I shouldn't put Rangiku through this, if I'm not…if I'm not sure."

"You want to know what I think, Toushirou-kun?" Kyouraku asked with a soft smile. Hitsugaya looked at him again, eyes questioning. "I think you're looking too far into this. I think you're missing the obvious."

"Obvious."

"Yes, obvious. It's hard to see because it's happened so naturally, and _that _is the mark of love. The sort of love you're talking about, anyway. Romantic love. It's instinctual, Toushirou-kun. That's what makes it romantic."

"Instinctual."

"Mm-hm. That's why you don't see it. Why you're so confused."

Hitsugaya frowned. "So what do your instincts tell you, Kyouraku? What is this answer that I can't see?"

Kyouraku's smile widened and for what felt like the first time, Hitsugaya thought that he understood why the Eight Division captain was as popular as he was, despite his unorthodox attitude.

"If you were meant to be with Hinamori-chan," he said, "then you would call her Momo."


	41. Honor in Sacrifice

_**Kudo shows up again for this one; the reaction to his character didn't honestly surprise me. I was kind of hoping for it, actually. Maybe because I wanted an antagonistic character without bringing in any of the "villains," or maybe because I wanted to start working in new captains for the missing positions to kind of round out this version of the Bleach world.**_

_**This was largely based on an argument that took place in my head. The politics of war isn't something I like to get into, because it almost always leads to an uncomfortable situation; as this chapter shows. So in order to have this argument, I needed an opposing voice. Kudo seemed the most likely vessel for that voice.**_

_**To be fair, I think he makes a decent point; he just doesn't quite present it the right way.**_

_**

* * *

**_

It wasn't odd, wasn't at all out of place, that silence would reign in the headquarters of the Tenth Division.

Hitsugaya was a quiet man, often spending his time in contemplative silence, studying or meditating or scratching out his paperwork with an old pen. When he trained, he trained in silence. Forced himself to be silent. Any noise that came from his office was much more often than not from Matsumoto's corner of the room. This was common, and the soldiers of the Tenth Division understood it.

The silence that hung over their headquarters _now, _though, wasn't common at all.

Every face was stoic, every voice held back. If it was at all necessary to speak, it was done in whispers, and if there was any way to keep quiet, it was done. As Kudo Hideaki followed Madarame Ikkaku and Hinamori Momo through the grounds, he watched the men and women of Hitsugaya's division going about their business in sterile, stifling quiet. The only sounds coming from the training ground were those of steel and wood; there was no laughter, no shouting, no grunting, not even cries of pain.

Ikkaku, loud as he usually was, seemed to respect his present surroundings and kept himself in check as he headed for Hitsugaya's office. Hinamori seemed familiar with this phenomenon, and kept her head low as she followed her captain. Kudo, thinking that Ikkaku would slice him in half if he dared to ask what was going on, kept his mouth shut in a thin line.

When Ikkaku strode into Hitsugaya's office, the boy captain lifted his head. Matsumoto, intent on the shief of paper in her hands, did not. Kudo quirked an eyebrow at her, but she didn't notice. What he did notice was the sudden flash of disdain that visited Hitsugaya's green eyes as he realized the Third Division captain was in his personal quarters.

Ikkaku crossed his arms. "Hitsugaya," he said quickly, curtly, with a low, solemn tone. "You've been summoned. Not sure why Yamamoto wanted _us_ to get you, but…there ya go. C'mon."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow. "…I see. Rangiku."

"Yes, Taichou," Matsumoto murmured, and rose from her desk.

They began to walk. Hitsugaya's soldiers saw him, stopped whatever they were doing, and saluted him. He responded in kind, but kept his attention straight ahead. Matsumoto did not make small talk as they left their division's headquarters, as she usually did. Hinamori did not attempt it, either, even though she looked rather nervous. Kudo kept his tongue in check admirably, but when they were out of grounds and on their way to the First Division's headquarters, he finally could not hold back.

He said, "Why are your men all so quiet?"

Hitsugaya did not answer for a long time. Finally, he did: "We have met with failure. I do not let my soldiers forget that." Matsumoto closed her eyes and hung her head. Hinamori stiffened, looking as though she'd expected this. Ikkaku let out a sigh.

"Failure?" Kudo echoed. "You're not talking about last night, are you? That was a resounding success! Yamamoto-soutaichou commended you! How can you…call that failure?"

Hitsugaya stopped walking. He went stiff. "…I sent ten of my soldiers to conduct that mission. Nine returned. That…is failure."

Kudo looked aghast. "What?! One casualty is failure? Are you insane, man? That…that…how can you hold your men to such ridiculous standards? _One _did not return, and you…you punish them?"

"I do not begrudge the nine survivors their return," Hitsugaya hissed. "I do not 'punish' them for surviving. What I do, however, is acknowledge the sacrifice made by the _one_ who did not. I don't _care _if my losses were _minimal _in this mission." His fists clenched. "I care only that I lost one of my soldiers. That one of the men bearing my number did not return home."

"And so…so you force them to…what? Swear an oath of silence?"

"He _forces _nothing," Matsumoto snarled.

"My soldiers lost one of their own," Hitsugaya snapped. "The Tenth Division is a family, and last night we lost a brother. Would you expect celebration at a funeral? I would not. And neither do my soldiers. My division, apparently unlike yours, respects the sacrifice of those who fall to the enemy. We do not think one _casualty _is failure. We think that letting one of our brothers _die _is failure."

"They…they all know the risks," Kudo said desparately. "All of us, we know that we might fall in this war. Do you think that your fallen brother would want you to remain so solemn? I would…I would hope that he would be honored, that his sacrifice allowed nine of _his_ brothers to come back home. He died honorably, did he not? He died in the line of duty, defending this court and Soul Society as a whole."

"Color it with whatever flowery language you like," Hitsugaya said. "Call it what you will, if it helps you sleep at night. I don't care. We, as Shinigami, know death far more intimately than any other. We know the horrors it can bring, we see the grief and pain and ugliness of it every day of our existence. The soldier who died last night already paid the ultimate price once. Now, because of this court, because of _me_, he was forced to pay it again. We live with honor, we fight with honor, but we will never…_ever…_die with it. Death is death. There is never any honor in it."

"That's…just not true!"

"…Say what you want."

Kudo's reply was stifled by the sudden glare Madarame Ikkaku sent in his direction.

"You know the first thing I learned when I entered this court?" he asked. "The first thing Zaraki Kenpachi taught me? Yeah, I see the look on your face. You don't think he has the _brains _to teach anybody anything, don'tcha? Well, that's just fine. You keep thinking that." Kudo drew in a breath and remained silent. "The first thing he taught me is when it's smart to keep my _goddamn _mouth shut!"

Kudo swallowed heavily.

"If you want to have a psychological debate about whether or not there is honor in death," Matsumoto muttered, "how about you _wait _a while before bringing it up? You know why you're so unpopular in this court right now? _Besides _the fact that you're the 'new guy'? It's because you apparently didn't learn _tact _before entering this position. You're a _captain, _you idiot! Learn some diplomacy!"

"And before you bring up Kyouraku," Hitsugaya said without looking back, "don't. I don't care if you train here for six thousand years. I don't care if you train here until time itself grows tired of you. You will _never _be Kyouraku."

For the first time, Kudo Hideaki began to wonder, himself, just how long it would take for someone to kill him.

No words were spoken for the remainder of the five shinigamis' walk to the First Division headquarters.

* * *

_**Perhaps a bit of food for thought for you guys. I'm kind of curious as to your reaction. My personal belief system probably lies somewhere in between our two combatants, here, but I honestly can't be sure. So, there you go. 'Til next time.**_

_**I think maybe I'll bring in a few fresh faces next time. Characters I haven't brought into the fray just yet. Any requests?  
**_


	42. Cradle Robber

**_This one is kind of weird. Probably not what anybody—least of all me—was expecting after such a long hiatus. But I felt like I needed to address it. This chapter sets the record straight on my philosophy regarding the entire project. Or, at least, that's what it's supposed to do. I won't say more up here; I'll let Matsumoto do it for me._**

**_Let's see what she has to say, shall we?_**

**_

* * *

  
_**

"Does the way he looks ever...bother you?"

Matsumoto lowered the still-full saucer from her lips and stared at Kira as if he'd grown an extra head. "...What?" she asked. They hadn't been here long, so it wasn't that she was too drunk to understand. She looked offended. "I hope you're not talking about what I _think _you're talking about."

"...Captain Hitsugaya," Kira said.

Matsumoto let out a sigh and shook her head. "By God, how many people are going to ask me that?" She downed her shot of alcohol and all but slammed the saucer onto the bar. "I'm not stupid enough to think that it's going to be kept private, but..._damn it, _can we stop focusing on how young he is?"

Kira swallowed nervously, and even Hisagi—sitting to his other side and trying his best to keep out of the conversation—stiffened and started looking in the opposite direction of his female compatriot. Mixing Matsumoto, anger and booze was never a good idea; it was a witch's brew of the highest, most dangerous order.

Her grey eyes were blazing, and Kira quailed.

"Uh...u-uh...n-n-n-never mind," he mumbled, and turned away.

"No, no, uh-uh," Matsumoto said sharply. "I don't think so. I'm going to make a guess, here, Kira, and say that your most _honored _captain put this question into your head. And I'm going to make _another _guess and say that the reason he put this question into your head is because he's at _least _smart enough not to ask me—or Heaven forbid, Toushirou—directly. Points for that. So what we're going to do, is we're going to _follow _this conversation to whatever conclusion needs to come, and you're going to inform your most _honored_ captain to _drop the subject _if he wants to keep his limbs attached in the proper places. Deal?"

It wasn't so much a question as a dare.

"I'll do Kira a favor," Hisagi muttered, sounding like he didn't want to be saying this, "and ask the most obvious question: is your captain a virgin?"

Matsumoto smirked, and it was perhaps the most bitter expression ever seen on her face. "As far as I know," she said, in a tone so icy that they could almost see her breath, "the answer is yes. And to answer your _next _question, I have only seen him without clothing from the waist _up. _And to answer your _next _question, there are no particular plans to change _either _of those things in the near future."

Hisagi was grinning down at the bar in front of him. "So you know, Kira, this is my public service for the week. I _will _collect on the favor." He turned away. "Continue," he said, waving a hand dismissively in the air with his back to them.

Kira drew in a deep, calming, steadying breath. "So...you aren't...physical." He looked entirely too embarrassed, and Matsumoto was absolutely certain that Kudo had put him up to this. At the least, he had suggested it. Her anger abated the slightest bit; Kira was a victim in this, a largely unwilling pawn.

He clearly didn't _want _to know this information.

"Not in the sense that your captain is thinking, no," she said. "I'm not _that _depraved. A relationship _can _be based on something _other _than—what does he think he's going to do with this knowledge, anyway?" Kira flinched again. "Hasn't he gotten it through his thick head that Yamamoto _accepts _this? He's not going to gain any ground, no matter _what _my answers are. Why does he care?"

Kira seemed to wipe himself off, as if he'd been physically soiled. "I...don't know," he admitted.

"So kissing does not cross the line of depravity, is that right?" Hisagi asked, still with his back turned.

"Why do _you _care?" Matsumoto demanded.

"I don't. But Kira seems entirely too uncomfortable to ask the questions to which Kudo-taichou wants answers, so I figure I'll run up a tab. You know he's going to wonder, if your relationship is so pure, why you seem so willing to show...adult affection, shall we call it, in _certain _ways, but not in others."

Matsumoto scowled. "Mentally and emotionally, Toushirou is more an adult than most of us. And before you ask, the reason I don't seduce him, or whatever the hell he thinks I like to do on weekends, is because I'm not comfortable with it yet, _personally. _I _am _comfortable with the occasional kiss, and so is Toushirou. And as to why I can make these decisions and set these lines, the answer is it's none of _Kudo-taichou's _damned business. If he thinks he can convince me to move on to a more _physically _adult...companion, I think he's in for a rather rude awakening. I wouldn't pick _him _if I was ordered to do it. I'd go rogue, I'd accept execution, hell, I'd...I'd...! _Damn it, _Kira, your captain is an idiot!"

"I...um...tried to tell him...that it wasn't...a good idea to...um..."

"Kudo won't last long," Hisagi muttered. "His appointment was an act of desperation. He's only keeping his seat because a replacement hasn't been found yet. I've half a mind to suggest that Kurosaki kid take over the position. Doubt he'd accept, though."

Matsumoto noted Kira's glum, head-caught-in-a-guillotine expression and patted him roughly on the back. "Don't feel bad. Not your fault. Know what you should do? Tell him Toushirou and I have been sneaking off to random linen closets every spare moment to mark our territory or something. See if he actually explodes."

Kira actually cracked a smile. "...Right. I'll do that."

"See you party animals later," Matsumoto said as she stood up.

"Old age catching up to you, cradle robber?" Hisagi asked.

"Watch it, punk. I'll put you over my knee."

"Is that an offer?"

"Tch. You wish."

As she left, Hisagi let a grin sneak onto his face.

"Hasn't lost her touch," he murmured thoughtfully. He glanced at Kira. "Maybe there's hope for us after all, huh?"

Kira's small smile widened. "...Maybe."

* * *

"The Third Division is doomed."

Hitsugaya glanced over to the door of his office as his vice-captain stepped inside. "I've known that for months. I thought this was drinking night," he muttered.

Matsumoto gave a mocking little smile. "I guess a certain little goody-two-shoes is rubbing off on me," she said. "Which is entirely unfair, by the way. _I _like to do the rubbing off around here."

The white-haired captain rolled his eyes. "Masturbation jokes. Apparently it _is _the weekend, after all."

"Pervert."

"Hypocrite."

Matsumoto's smile softened as she noticed a certain little orange fluff-ball jumping up and down on her captain's desk, batting at Hitsugaya's pen with its tiny paws. Hitsugaya nonchalantly kept it out of the kitten's reach, _almost _looking like he wasn't doing it on purpose.

"Aw, look at that," Matsumoto said. "My pets are bonding."

"Meow," Hitsugaya offered, completely deadpan.

Matsumoto sat at her own desk and chuckled. "And people say you have no sense of humor."

She began to work, and all thoughts of Kudo Hideaki and his idiotic questions fled her mind.

Hitsugaya followed suit moments later, and they spent the evening in companionable silence.

Words were unnecessary.

The only sound that made itself known in the office that night...was tiny little kitten teeth gnawing on a pen.

* * *

**_So...anyone expecting me to go into adults-only territory with this story is hopefully disillusioned by now. I stand by my decision that this pairing works, because they're both far older than they look, and more than mature enough (most of the time) to make these types of decisions. However, Hitsugaya does still present a bit of a problem in the physical department, and I am in no hurry to explore the details. I do have standards, you know. They're just...kind of hard to find sometimes._**

**_Hopefully, this diatribe made some amount of sense. And hopefully, I don't sound like a complete hypocrite. It makes sense to me, at least._**

**_I think._**


	43. Under the Influence

_**It's been nine months since I've seen you all, and I understand more than you know that that is entirely unacceptable. It's been at least six months since I've followed the storyline of Bleach. The story of why I haven't been writing lately is too long, too involved, and too personal to go into true detail. Suffice it to say that I wasn't in a good place, and if I'd tried to write anything on this story or most any other, it would have been awful.**_

_**I can't vouch for the quality of the scenes ahead, but I can assure that they were born from honest inspiration.**_

* * *

Alarms were going off in her head.

Something was wrong here, and she needed to figure it out _now, _or else there would be dire consequences. She'd never really known what the word, "dire," meant, and she'd been around for a long, long time. But now she understood. _This _was dire. This was the definition of dire. Whenever she heard the word from now on, she would think of the scene in front of her right now, and she would shudder.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was smiling.

Matsumoto had been around her captain long enough to have seen him smile before, but Hitsugaya's smiles were just as muted as the rest of his emotions. They were tiny things, exotic creatures that kept themselves hidden, and Matsumoto had trained herself to keep watch for them. For a long time, it had been an indication of when she could get away with her usual tactic of sneaking away from her desk for a few hours to...do things.

Now, she had a much deeper reason to watch for Hitsugaya's smiles.

And she should have been happy to see one now, but she wasn't. She was terrified.

This was no ordinary smile. This was no Hitsugaya smile. The boy captain's face was split in a wide, completely oblivious, blissful grin. He was leaning over his desk, cradling his head in one hand, and she was sure that if his hair weren't _normally _messy enough to qualify as a natural landmark, that it would have been messy now.

Matsumoto stepped gingerly into the office she shared with her commanding officer and drew in a deep, steadying breath. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, his eyes found her, and _he _spoke.

He said, "...You're pretty."

Matsumoto stopped dead in her tracks. "...I'm sorry, _what?"_

"You're pretty," he said. "And tall. How are you doing that?"

"Doing...what?"

"Being _tall. _It must be nice, being tall. And pretty. Pretty tall. Those things look _way _too heavy, though. Do they hurt your back?"

If anyone else had asked her that, she would have attacked. Normally, if Hitsugaya had asked her that, she would have shot back a short joke and called it done. Now, she had no idea _what _to do. She didn't say a word. Her eyes were wide, her mouth was open, and her entire body felt limp.

Her captain...her straight-arrow, rules-are-rules, ten-foot-pole-up-his-backside captain...was stark, stumbling drunk.

He was laughing now, as Matsumoto's kitten hopped up onto the desk and batted at one of his pens. Hitsugaya picked up the pen and tapped the tiny animal's head. "What are we gonna name this little guy?" he asked, in a tone of voice far lighter and happier than she had probably _ever _heard. "I hear people, out _there, _talk about their pets being like...their children. So...you know, he's like...he's like..."

Matsumoto felt her face redden. "...I...don't know, Toushirou."

"I think...Ash."

"What? He's _orange, _Toushirou, not..."

"Yes, _but..." _He held up a finger as though he'd caught her at something. He jabbed it at her. _"You _found him. And _your _sword is a cat...like ashes. Ash cat. So _this _cat...should be ash, too." He started giggling madly as if he'd made a joke.

"...Uh...right. Well, we'll think about it. I think maybe we should wait until you..."

"Until I...?"

"Since when did you start drinking?" she demanded, sounding almost betrayed.

Hitsugaya blinked. "I drink a _lot." _He lifted up an empty mug from the desk. "Kyou...Kyouraku...he found a new tea. He said I should try it. Help me relapse. Relax. I tried it. It's _amazing."_

Matsumoto closed her eyes and sighed. "Some times he's unpredictable...sometimes he's _not. _Well, you enjoy your tea, Taichou. I...I need to...go."

"Oh. Okay. Bye!"

He was waving at her with far too much enthusiasm.

He reminded her of Kurosaki's sister.

Matsumoto shuddered, turned away, and shut the door of her drunk captain's office behind her.

"Dear God, I'm going to murder him," she breathed.

* * *

"What the _hell?"_

Kyouraku Shinsui was a master of acting surprised. He did so now, as Matsumoto stalked up to him, looking ready to rip out his spinal column and hang him with it. "My, my. You look tense, Rangiku-chan. That's unlike you."

"Cut the crap. _Why?"_

The pretense fell from Kyouraku's stubbled face. "To prove a point. That boy can't relax to save his life, much less his sanity. We're all tense around here, but he's worse than most of us. I don't think anybody could convince him to unwind on his own, so I decided to force him."

"And _what _makes you think you have the right to force my captain to do anything?"

"Seniority, but that means little to him. I know. There will be consequences for this experiment. I'll take them."

"You..._you...!"_

"I'm _almost _surprised at this reaction. I think I know what this is about. This is about Hitsugaya-kun's predecessor, isn't it? That man could drink _me _under the table, and you were so relieved when his replacement could barely stand the _smell_ of alcohol that it's become a safety net. It's your proof that he won't do the same thing to you that Kazuhiko did. Isn't it?"

Matsumoto blinked. She had expected Kyouraku's usual game of playing stupid until he learned something. He wasn't usually anywhere near this...transparent about an issue, and it had her reeling. She finally stammered out a reply: "What...what are you talking about? He never did _anything _to me. Okay, so I hated him. I hate Kudo, too. That has nothing to do with...with..."

Kyouraku shrugged. "We all have secrets. I know that better than anyone. I could never forgive myself if I didn't let you keep yours. But...I know, Rangiku-chan. So did Ichimaru. Why do you think the man is dead?"

So there it was.

Out in the open.

"...You know about that."

Kyouraku shrugged. "Not until it was too late to do anything about it. I'm not certain I _would _have, but...well, let's say I wasn't as good at reading people back then. Ichimaru was always hard to pin down. So was Kazuhiko, for that matter."

Matsumoto sighed. "...I shouldn't be surprised. I still don't know why I _am. _Maybe...maybe you're right. Maybe I don't want to see Toushirou drinking because...because...then..."

"For what it's worth, I learned a lot from...that particular mistake. I wouldn't worry, if I were you."

"...Go on?"

Kyouraku laughed. Matsumoto frowned at him, but said nothing. "The moment he realizes what the secret ingredient in his new tea _is, _I'd bet a year of sobriety that he'll go on a rampage. Tell me I'm wrong."

"Mm."

"Furthermore, imagine if you had given Kazuhiko the sort of...forgive me...access that you've given Hitsugaya-kun. You've openly kissed a few times now, haven't you? Holding hands, foregoing all protocal when speaking to each other...and whatever else you might be doing behind the doors of the office you share." Kyouraku winked, then grimaced as if he regretted it. "Imagine how forward Kazuhiko would have been, given that kind of permission."

Matsumoto suddenly found herself feeling...slimy.

"Has Hitsugaya-kun even _once _taken advantage of it?"

"...No."

"You've already seen him in what I assume is...a rather comical state. He does love his tea, after all. What has he done?"

"He...called me pretty. And tall. And he asked...he asked me what we should name the kitten, because...because he's like...our child."

Kyouraku's face split into a grin. "You see? You never do anything drunk that you wouldn't _think _of doing sober. And what's he doing? Telling you how pretty you are. Not how _sexy _you are, or about how he'd like to see what's under your uniform...but just how pretty you are. That...that's adorable." Kyouraku chuckled to himself. "Do something for me, Rangiku-chan. Take a couple of days off. Spend them with your captain. Reassure yourself. I'm sure he'll tell you anything you want to know."

"...That feels like cheating."

"Mm. And when Kazuhiko was swimming in his own head, did you ever once have a problem with manipulating _him?"_

"No."

"Case in point. Go, Rangiku-chan. Don't worry. We'll find someone to run the division for a few days. Yama-jii won't like it, but you both need this. We need you sharp, we need you focused. At your best. That means we need you to relax, and we need you to trust each other."

"Toushirou is...not going to accept that."

"Let me worry about that. You have enough to work out. Go."

And so she went.

With no idea what to do, what to say, and what to think.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Hitsugaya was, perhaps unsurprisingly, rather articulate considering the situation. He clearly wasn't himself, and he wasn't walking very well (Matsumoto had to hold him up every so often so that he could regain his balance), but there wasn't the faintest trace of a slur in his voice, even when she strained to hear one.

Of course, that didn't mean he was making sense.

Or maybe he was, and that was the problem.

"It's stifling in there. I need fresh air."

The kitten had situated itself on Hitsugaya's shoulder, seeming to cling for dear life whenever the boy captain swayed. "I like fresh air," he declared. "I like _cold _air. Do you like cold air, Ran...Ran..."

"Of course," Matsumoto said, even though she rather detested the cold, most of the time. She was slowly coming around, though. You didn't spend any amount of time with Hitsugaya Toushirou without coming to appreciate cold on _some _level.

"Oh. That's good. I like cold air, too. I like watermelon. We should get some. Do you...?"

"Yes, Toushirou."

"Oh. That's good."

He seemed satisfied with this, and remained silent for a while.

Matsumoto eventually found that she had led her captain to a pond outside the headquarters of the Sixth Division. She glanced back at Hitsugaya and, for the first time, thought she understood Kyouraku's motivation for his...experiment.

He looked peaceful.

Content.

He looked _happy._

Hitsugaya dropped unceremoniously in front of the water to a sitting position, and Matsumoto sat down beside him. The kitten hopped from Hitsugaya's shoulder onto Matsumoto's lap, and she scratched behind its ears as she figured out what she was going to say.

Hitsugaya was humming a little song to himself.

It was harder and harder to remain irritated at Kyouraku, much as she wanted to hold on.

"You know what I used to think?" Hitsugaya said, in that musing, meandering way people had when they don't realize that they're talking at all. "I used to think Bet-Wetter Momo went away 'cuz of me. Maybe she didn't like watermelon. I don't know how you _can't, _but...she's kind of weird sometimes. You know?" He looked at Matsumoto, who could only nod dumbly and pretend she understood. "Then she came back and she was all _proud, _she was in the academy and she was doing _awesome _and...and...and this Aizen guy, he was paying special attention to her. Giving her compliments and...stuff. Flowers."

"He was grooming her," Matsumoto said darkly.

"I thought, you know, if _she _can do this...maybe I could, too. I'd see what's so interesting about this academy and all. Then _you _came along, and you were already an officer and...and...yeah. You said I should put my power to good use. So I did."

Matsumoto blinked.

_Had _she?

She honestly couldn't remember for the life of her if she'd met Hitsugaya before that first day when he'd become her captain. It certainly hadn't _seemed _like she'd known him. She wondered if maybe she should cut back on the sauce a bit. This apparent hole in her memory bothered her.

But Hitsugaya seemed adament, and he wasn't so plastered that she thought he was lying.

"Ichimaru visited me. When I was at the academy. He said," and Hitsugaya lapsed into a halting but eerily accurate imitation of Ichimaru Gin's voice, "'hey, hey, lookit this. Thought you might show up one o' these days. Don't look so puny now, eh? Good. Maybe ya can make officer after all.' I asked him if there was a height requirement to join the Gotei 13, and he just...grinned at me. 'Nah, nah, nuttin' like that. Butcha know...it don' hurt. Do me a favor, though, kid. You graduate, 'n you join the ranks, you see if ya can't join the Tenth.' So...I did. And then I found out that my vice-captain would be _you. _I thought...that was nice. You're nice. Kind of lazy sometimes, but...nice. And pretty. And _tall."_

Matsumoto found herself smiling.

"I can trust you," Hitsugaya murmured thoughtfully. "I know...when I ask you to do something...you'll do it. If I ask you to keep a secret, I know you'll keep it a secret." He blinked at her. "Am I talking too much? I feel like I'm talking too much."

"...Not at all, Toushirou."

* * *

"Nobody's seen him all day! I'm telling you, something's wrong!"

"I didn't say there _weren't _somethin' wrong. What I _said _was I don't know why you think he's gonna need _our _help to get 'im out of it. Ain't like he hasn't proven himself fifty times over. Gotten to the point where the only person he's provin' a damn thing to anymore's himself."

"That's not the point, Madarame-taichou! What if he _is _in trouble, and we could do something about it, but didn't because, 'he can handle it'?"

Ikkaku ran a hand over his bald head in frustration, but continued walking. He felt like he'd been dragged around half of Soul Society by the time he and Hinamori finally caught some kind of lead as to where Hitsugaya'd vanished. For any other soldier in the Gotei 13 to be missing for a few hours, this wouldn't have been a problem unless there was a meeting or a mission. For Hitsugaya Toushirou, it was a sign of the end of the world. Especially since Hinamori was _still _in "make up for everything" mode and remained convinced that the only way she could possibly win over her childhood friend again (never mind the fact that Hitsugaya had never been all that angry with her in the first place) was to do anything and everything he asked, and half of what he didn't.

Ikkaku might have put a stop to it, if he didn't usually find it kind of funny.

Today, it was giving him a damned headache.

He nodded to Renji as they passed him, made a, "save me from the batshit crazy woman," gesture when Hinamori wasn't looking, and was just about ready to pick a fight with somebody just to make the day even passably interesting when they found him.

His head was resting on one of his vice-captain's legs, and he was staring up at the sky with the happiest freaking look on his face Ikkaku had ever seen. He'd seen a lot from the captain of the Tenth Division, most of it unexpected and more than half of it in combat. _This _was new.

_This _was different.

_This_...was freaking scary.

As if it hadn't been freaky enough, though, Hitsugaya turned over as they approached, and actually waved. "Hey! It's Bet-Wetter Momo! Hi, there! You look pale. Are you cold? I like cold."

"...Holy _fuck."_

"Hitsugaya...taichou?"

"Kyouraku-taichou gave him some new tea to try," Matsumoto explained. "Apparently it's _amazing. _It helps him relapse."

Ikkaku blinked.

Stared.

And promptly fell over laughing.

* * *

**_As sporadic as my updates are, and I know they must be infuriating, I assure you all that if I ever decide to abandon this or any other project, you will be the first to know. I love these characters, I love these stories, and I love to share them with you. I'm not done yet. I'm working through a tough transitional period right now, and I hope that I may be forgiven._**


	44. The Decay

_**An announcement before we begin:**_

_**I have set up a blog, "In Cold Blood," which is now my homepage on my profile; the address is as follows: icedblood1986 (dot) blogspot (dot) com. Here I will be posting updates to any project I've written—or any other project, period—as they're posted. This includes updates to a pair of websites I've recently joined known as "Wikinut" and "Triond." These sites are pay-to-post, and I will earn a percentage of ad revenue generated by each page I post for them.**_

_**In order to earn some money with this passion of mine, I will be posting all new fanfiction projects through Triond (Wikinut does not allow fanfiction, but other nonfiction projects or original fiction will be posted there). I apologize for this inconvenience, but I hope you understand that I am trying to make more out of this than a hobby. I hope to help my family and myself with my writing. I'm transferring to a university to pursue a teaching degree, and I need all the help I can get. So keep an eye out on my new blog, if such is your inclination. I promise that things won't be too infuriating. It would help me out a lot if you guys could look at what I have posted already, and of course leave feedback if you wish. Any and every response to my work is greatly appreciated and encouraged.**_

_**Don't worry about any projects that are currently up on here. They won't be moving. This announcement is only in reference to new projects.**_

_**Thank you for understanding, and if you decide to take a look at "In Cold Blood," feel free to drop me a line. I always love to hear from you.**_

_**Now that that's said, on to the chapter. I've opted to try something new with this update; new, old, whichever you prefer. This will be the beginning of a new story arc, and will be an ongoing thing. But instead of waiting until I have 1,000+ words, I will be posting each section (scene) I write as a separate chapter. Hopefully this will mean shorter, but more frequent updates.**_

_**Let me know what you think of this approach. And, of course, if you like the storyline.**_

_**Let us begin.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Zaraki was first.

That was the scary part of it all, if it could be encapsulated into a single sentence. Logically speaking, it couldn't. Too much had happened in too little time for it to be explained in a single sentence. Nonetheless, that was what Hitsugaya Toushirou thought about, when people talked about it, when people talked about it in the hushed, superstitious tones of people so scared that the fear had become a great, hulking beast that they were trying to hide from.

Zaraki was first.

Kurotsuchi called it _Pathogen #173-SS-H-9,_ and Yamamoto called it, "this problem," but most of them, Hitsugaya included, thought of it by another name:

The decay.

They all knew how it worked now, _why _Zaraki Kenpachi was the first to succumb and why most of Soul Society—those you would have _expected _to be victims of an infection like this—hadn't even been touched by it. They had an idea of how it spread and how it grew (Hitsugaya suspected that Kurotsuchi knew far more about it than he let on; like his predecessor he rarely felt the need to explain what he knew and _never_ explained it fully), but that first day they'd known nothing.

The only thing they'd known was that the Gotei 13's most rabid attack dog—a man with such raw power that he could have had the run of Soul Society if he'd had the patience, forethought, and desire to take it—was sick.

Except…sick didn't encompass it.

Ukitake was sick.

This wasn't anything like that. It was more. Worse. More devastating.

Zaraki wasn't sick. He was decaying.

One day he was the wild, insane, chronically bored captain of the 11th division; the next he was flat on his back in the 4th Division's headquarters, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling and barely able to speak. And the only thing that had come even close to making him more coherent had been removing his eye patch, which at least gave them half an iota of insight as to what the holy hell was wrong.

Hitsugaya hadn't given it a second though at first; the 11th Division was in and out of the infirmary so often that it was a cliché. Zaraki was there less often than his subordinates—if only because it took something with the spiritual power of a god to even _wound_ that whirling, grinning devil—but the _idea _of Zaraki being in the infirmary wasn't the faintest bit foreign.

Hitsugaya took some amount of notice when Madarame and Hisagi joined him.

And when Komamura and Kuchiki joined _them,_ he was fully on alert.

It was then that he discovered that none of the upper-ranked tenants of Unohana's house had entered it as a result of battle. None of them had a single mark on them (in the cases of Madarame and Zaraki, _new _mark). Ukitake Jyuushirou was the only member of the entire Gotei 13 to have continuous run-ins with illness. Such things were not even close to common.

In short, for five shinigami to fall ill in sequence like this, four of them captains and one an acting captain, was the exact opposite of a coincidence. It was, for lack of a better term, a cataclysm.


	45. Bio Calculated Titular Regulations

**_Ask, and ye shall receive. While my last chapter is not my shortest, it was certainly shorter than is normal for me, especially these days. Consider it a prologue, if you will. I trust that this update will be more suitable to my current standards, and I hope you enjoy it. I certainly had fun with it._**

**_I am going to be updating this particular piece each Wednesday. While this particular update is late (busy day that didn't end until now, at 9 PM), expect to see it up late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning. So, the next chapter will be posted 7 days from now._**

**_With that said, enjoy._**

* * *

Did anybody have a clue what to do in the beginning? Not really, and that was half the problem.

The Gotei 13 kept the peace well enough to keep order when things were normal. But when the unexpected reared its head, it always felt like they broke apart like a stained-glass window met with a sledgehammer, and nobody ever seemed able to keep control for longer than six-point-two seconds at a time. Hitsugaya kept order in his men, order and discipline. But that didn't seem to count for much on the field.

He didn't think of any of his fellow captains as incompetent—except maybe Zaraki, but then the 11th Division sometimes felt like a separate entity all its own, where his brand of leadership actually counted for something.

But even so, even _if_ all the Divisions were disciplined in their own way, that was the problem; it was _their own way, _for all of them. The Gotei 13 didn't feel like an army so much as a collection of teams competing with each other for dominance. Which was why the decay caused such an uproar. Nobody seemed interested in working together to solve a damn thing. The only thing anybody seemed to care about was if _their _captain would be next.

It felt like the hundreds of soldiers charged with keeping the peace in Soul Society were nothing but cheerleaders for the officers, and the officers cheerleaders for the captains.

The first thing Hitsugaya decided to do after the…outbreak? After things returned to some species of equilibrium, he would begin to take more notice of the lower ranks of his division. He would oversee their training, read their performance reviews personally, learn their names. Monitor everything more closely.

He would see about getting the Fifth to do the same. Since Ikkaku had taken over, there seemed to be a kind of unspoken allegiance between them. Fifth and tenth. It made an odd sort of sense. He was sure that Ikkaku wouldn't be interested in monitoring his men, especially the peons, but he was also sure that Hinamori would understand the necessity for it and likely relish the task.

And with so little collaboration going on…anything at all was a blessing.

* * *

Matsumoto Rangiku was not pleased.

It wasn't so much that she didn't agree with the policy so much as she _hated _it. And Matsumoto Rangiku didn't like to hate things. Matsumoto Rangiku liked to _like _things, and that was especially true when it came to her captain. She'd always liked Hitsugaya, to some degree or another. Even when they'd first met, she'd thought he was interesting.

Interest had grown into respect, respect into trust, and trust into…well.

Right now she wanted to throttle the little punk. Staring at the sick joke masquerading as "efficiency" currently invading her desk, she thought it was probably a good thing that Hitsugaya was off in a personal meeting with the seated officers of the Fifth Division, because her hands were starting to itch.

She picked up a sheaf of paper and mumbled aloud: "'Reviewing and Filing Hollow Physiology Reports'—oh, for the love of God, what _is _this?" She tossed the so-called _performance guide _on top of the pile and stood up. "'Sick-leave Request Forms,' 'Inadequate Performance Citations,' 'How to Properly Submit Private Meeting Requests.'" She glared at the little ball of orange seated patiently at her right heel and said, "Small damned wonder he's so uptight, if _this _is what they have him doing!"

The kitten mewed.

Matsumoto picked up her pet and stalked out of the office, muttering, "I need a walk," and pointedly _not _filling out an Impromptu Office Absense Slip. If anyone had to find her, they could _look. _She filed that under Extracurricular Training Exercises, thank you very much, and who the holy _hell _came up with all these titles in the first place?

"Do you ever feel like we're rats running around in one giant maze, stepping on random buttons and hoping the food pops out this time?" she asked the kitten. She didn't know why she insisted on talking to the tiny animal, and Hitsugaya asked her often enough, but she didn't much care about that. Right now she didn't much care about _anything, _if she were telling the honest truth. The entire world felt like it was falling apart, and all she felt was…tired.

Tired and annoyed.

So wrapped up in general misanthropy was she that she almost stumbled right into Kira Izuru, _would _have if the cat hadn't suddenly jumped up on top of her head. Cursing, she fell backward and nearly landed flat on her backside. Instinct sharpened by raw nerves kicked her muscles into hyper-drive, and she spun, caught herself with one hand so that it looked like she was performing a one-handed sideways push-up, and tucked her legs in beneath her.

Standing, she suddenly realized tiny, needling little pricks of pain were lancing through her head, and she reached up gingerly to calm the Nameless One before she lost any hair. She said, in a voice much _less _irritated than she felt, "Good morning, Kira. Fabulous weather to be avoiding, isn't it?"

The blond gave a half-chuckle that sounded more like a whimper of pain and asked if she was all right. Matsumoto nodded with a little wave of dismissal. "You look like you're supposed to be doing something," he said.

"Eh?"

"You have a look about you, when your captain's given you a task that you're trying to avoid." Kira gestured to her face. "Right there. Look in a mirror, next time you're procrastinating. You should be able to see it."

"Seems all it takes to sharpen your sense of humor is an apocalypse," Matsumoto muttered dryly, and Kira flinched. "…Sorry. You're right. Toushirou _did _ask me to…look over a few things over the next few days, whenever I had the time. Turns out that his definition of a 'few' is two shy of an _infinitude. _But anyway…how are you?"

Kira shrugged, gave a nervous little spasm, and Matsumoto realized that he had dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping. This wasn't exactly a surprise. Anyone who spent more than a week around Ichimaru Gin became something of a light sleeper, and the current situation didn't help any.

"Fine…considering," he said. "Kudo-taichou asked me to deliver a report to the Captain-Commander. He said something about my being too pale. Needing to get outside more often."

"My guess is he _also _said you should _sleep _more often. When was the last time you lay down?"

"Three days, I think." Kira chuckled.

"You're an idiot."

Shrug. "What about you? What is it you…should be doing?"

Matsumoto groaned. "Toushirou is concerned because this sickness, whatever it is, seems to be affecting the higher-ups. So he says I should be trained in _his _duties to make sure I can take over the division in case he's the next one to take a trip to the infirmary."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"Doesn't it, though?" Matsumoto snapped. "Have you even _heard _of the 'Unmandated Protein-Injection Request Protocol?' What kind of madhouse is Kurotsuchi running, and why should _I _have to care about it?"

Kira looked like he was trying his level best to look sympathetic.

He was failing.

"Oh…_fine." _Matsumoto huffed, turned on a heel, and started back.

"…Huh?" Kira asked, and when she looked back over her shoulder, she saw a look of flabbergasted surprise on his face. "What did I…?"

"Your _eye _told me to suck it up and quit whining," she all but hissed back at him.

She turned away, disgusted and irritated, and didn't watch as Kira reached up and touched his right eye gingerly with the fingertips of his right hand.


	46. Don't

**_So Wednesdays aren't working out for me. They're a day when I'm out of the house by 7 in the morning, and I'm lucky if I'm home by 6. Add onto that a project I've started conducting with a couple of friends, and I'm not free to do anything in particular until about 10 at night. Until I can get this schedule thing worked out with all of my projects, expect this update to come on either Tuesdays or Thursdays (like today). I will, however, as previously stated be updating regularly. Once a week, I promise you that you will see a new chapter up on this piece. I hope that this will make up for my dismal updating schedule pretty much through the entire lifespan of the project._**

**_That said, the decay continues to cause problems. Let's look into it, shall we?_**

**_Enjoy._**

* * *

"Do you understand what I'm suggesting?"

Hinamori Momo felt like she was meeting her childhood friend for the first time. This was the boy she'd thought of as a baby brother since their shared childhood in Rukongai. She remembered when he'd first entered Soul Society as little more than a toddler, barely able to speak for his crippling shyness. She remembered when he'd been taken in by the woman he called his grandmother, remembered the first time he called her, "Bed-Wetter Momo."

She remembered the first day he'd entered the academy. She remembered the day Hyourinmaru had finally answered him. The day he'd joined the Tenth Division; the day he'd taken on the mantle of _leading _the Tenth Division.

But none of that seemed to make any difference anymore. None of that seemed to mean anything. Now, as she looked at him, standing in her captain's office in front of her captain's desk—looking at her with the same innately protective look he'd always had, but with some undercurrent that made everything…distant—she realized fundamentally that Hitsugaya Toushirou was not, in any stretch of the term, "Shiro-chan," anymore. She'd _thought _she'd understood it before, but she didn't. Now she did.

This was Hitsugaya-taichou, head of the Tenth Division.

And she was Hinamori-fukutaichou, second-in-command and (currently) acting head of the Fifth. By the letter of the law, while Madarame-taichou was incapacitated, they were equals. But Hinamori saw something in Hitsugaya's light green eyes that told her: no. Never. She had been a shinigami longer than he had. But _he _had seniority. _He _had authority.

And it was a pang; it hurt.

But just the same, it was a relief.

She nodded, and didn't let any of this out, because now wasn't the time to talk about it. She said, "I understand. You're right, of course. We can't let the Gotei 13 go to pieces. Not when it's just getting back on its feet."

"Madarame isn't interested in paperwork," Hitsugaya said, "and right now he's in no shape to be putting any of this together." Madarame Ikkaku was barely coherent anymore, and what words he did manage to string together were sharp, short, and bitter. He was not a leader, not now, and neither Unohana nor Kurotsuchi could figure out—yet—what it was about him, and all of them, that had sapped from them not only their strength, but their ability to function.

"I know," said Hinamori dejectedly, tightening her sash for no better reason than it gave her something to do with her hands. "His old comrades from the Eleventh Division tried to talk to him, but they said they're having no better luck with Madarame-taichou than they did with Zaraki-taichou."

Hitsugaya nodded. "In light of that, I've had some of the newer recruits go over the training manuals and put together a list of the vital functions a captain must perform. The manuals are in the captains' quarters, though I'm not sure if Madarame ever bothered to look at them, or even if he kept them. Look for them. If you can't find them, let me know. I'll have copies made for you. We need to ensure that as many people down the chain of command know how to run each division. We don't know how this…infection spreads."

"Do you really think it might…come to that?"

The anger, the uncertainty, left Hitsugaya's face. He turned his head and stared at the wall for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his shoulders, and said, "I think that if we don't prepare for the worst…this could end us."

That seemed to be the end of the discussion. The boy captain stepped toward the exit, idly brushing something off the desk and onto the floor; dust, maybe. He adjusted his cloak, set his sword right on his back, and nodded to Hinamori in a silent farewell.

Hinamori watched him leave, and suddenly couldn't stand to see it. She said, impulsively, "How's Rangiku-san?" in a desparate attempt to keep him in the room. As if he might take over the job she was now being expected to perform. The job Madarame Ikkaku took great pains to avoid. The job Aizen Sousuke had abandoned.

Hitsugaya looked back at her, and there was something new in his eyes.

Something soft.

Something…warm.

And he said, "She'll manage."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Shuuhei?"

Hisagi was more coherent than his counterparts, but he was weak. Too weak to sit up. He turned his head, staring up at Matsumoto like he wasn't sure _what _she was, much less _who. _He offered a slight twitch that might have been a shrug and said, "…Like I'm not here."

His voice was slurred, a drunken croak.

"Have Unohana-taichou or Kurotsuchi-taichou made any headway about a cure?" Matsumoto asked, crossing her arms and trying to pretend like she was nonchalant. She figured if the acting captain of the Ninth Division were in his right mind, he would have no trouble seeing right through it. But he wasn't, and the frightening part was that no one seemed sure if he ever _would _be again.

_Don't think like that, you idiot, _Matsumoto berated herself. _The last thing we need is pessimism._

"We were supposed to go drinking tonight," she said. "What say I drag Kira down here, and we bring the party to you?" She gave a wink, offering a playful expression that felt hopelessly fake. But Hisagi smiled a little—just barely—and seemed to be trying to lift his hand.

"T-Thanks," he said, "but I'm…not sure that would be a good idea." He grimaced. "Kurotsuchi has some…_thing _lurching around inside me…trying to find the source. It _looked _like a pill. Probably wasn't." He scratched just above his right hip, and closed his eyes again. "Alcohol might…cause issues. And I'd…just as soon _not _make Kurotsuchi homicidal." He gave his little almost-smile again and added, "More homicidal than…usual."

"Ah, well…maybe we'll bring you tea. We'll use a saucer, pour it from a sake jug so you can pretend like it's working." She winked again. "And shape up. This'll blow over soon. Toushirou had a bout with something a while back. He was on his back for a few days, but after that, he was up and yelling and throwing things at me just like normal."

Hisagi opened his eyes again. "…It's still strange…hearing you call Hitsugaya-taichou by that name…"

Matsumoto shrugged. "He never complained when I started, so I just…kept at it. That's kind of how it works with him. If he doesn't complain, you're pretty much golden. 'Cuz he…definitely lets you know when he's not happy with you." She scratched the side of her head. "Usually involves crockery or stray rocks."

"So I guess…there's no point in hoping…you two are official."

Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Hisagi chuckled, which turned into a cough. He forced it down. "This feels like such a cliché…like I'm a character in some romance novel written by a thirteen-year-old girl. But…fuck it. You probably knew already. You seem to make a living out of…enticing every creature with a Y chromosome. Like it's a game. You're beautiful, and you know it, and you use it." He looked like he was trying to lift his hands again. "Not that that's…a bad thing. And if I'm…insulting you…chalk it up to the medication. Who knows what's in that…? Well, anyway. I suppose I was hoping…you know…if I worked at things hard enough…if I proved myself strong enough and capable enough…"

"Are you…? You're not…? Oh, God, Shuuhei, don't even start."

"Don't worry," Hisagi said. Matsumoto felt something like a ball of lead sinking in her stomach. "It's nothing. Well, _now _it is. I can tell you're happy with him. And he with you." Another chuckle, this one a touch bitter. _"Someone _in this cesspool should have the chance to be happy, at least. I'm glad it was you two. You deserve it."

"You talk like you're expecting to die," Matsumoto said, sharper than she'd meant.

Hisagi looked at her, and for a moment their eyes locked, and she could see the gut-wrenching _pain _behind them. Not depression, or grief, or even guilt. Just plain, unfiltered, physical pain. He said, "Every morning I wake up, I expect to die. That's what…that's what Tousen-taichou…taught me. To fear your weapon, to loathe combat, and to…expect to die. That is the life of a soldier. And every day that you continue to live…is a gift."

Matsumoto had no answer to that. And so she excused herself, and left the infirmary as quickly as possible, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what she was supposed to be thinking right now.

* * *

That night was a late one. Matsumoto sat at her desk, reading reports and manuals and God only knew what else by candlelight, fearful and irate and strung out and why the _hell _wasn't the alcohol doing its job? She lowered her head onto her desk and groaned, thinking that if she were in any sense a well-adjusted person she would be passed out right now.

But she'd tried to sleep.

She couldn't.

She threw herself back onto her chair and stared up at the ceiling. "This is some kind of cosmic joke," she muttered. "Is this Aizen's plan? If it is, it's perfect. Take them out without even fighting. How perfect. How simple."

She heard a distant, tiny little sniffle from Hitsugaya's desk, where the kitten was sleeping, almost like it was responding to her. Like the animal was telling her to suck it up and deal with it. Or maybe that was _her. _It didn't matter. All it meant was that she was going crazy, talking to herself and _answering _herself. And wouldn't _that_ just be perfect?

"Hey, Sugimura," she heard herself saying, calling in their Third Seat one morning, "here's the thing. Our captain is being eaten from the inside out by some disease we've never heard of, and _I'm _just about batshit crazy. So congratulations! You win! Sad part is, all we have to offer as a prize is...what's left of us."

Of course…that was stupid.

Hitsugaya wasn't even sick.

…Yet.

She supposed it was that fear, that paranoia, that sent her rocketing over her desk when she heard it. She snatched up her sword—as though she might _fight _the illness—and ran full tilt out of the room and toward the simple, unadorned, monk's-sanctuary/broom-closet that served her captain for a bedroom looking two seconds away from leaping headlong into psychosis.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was lying on his side, clutching his sheets and shivering. The noise came again; not a cry, or a whimper, but more an angry grunt; and just the same, there was something about it that was…fear.

A nightmare?

Another nightmare?

Matsumoto almost sank to the floor in relief, and berated herself immediately afterward as she watched him sleep. Wherever he was, whatever prison in which his mind was currently confined, it was the precise opposite of pleasant. He was paler than usual, and curled like he was, half in the fetal position, he looked so much smaller than usual as well.

Matsumoto stood up, creeped over to his cot, and sat down.

She leaned against the wall and put a hand on his shoulder. He was cold.

She said, "…Don't you get sick next, you son of a bitch. You hear me? Don't you do it."

In came the kitten, padding into the room as silent as Soi Fong's boys, and hopped up onto the cot, settling itself on its favorite perch: Hitsugaya's head. Matsumoto found a chuckle. She scratched behind the little tufts of its ears.

"You'll protect Daddy from the big bad plague, won't you?" she asked, in a feeble little voice.

Mew.

Sniffle.

"Hear that, Toushirou?" Matsumoto asked. "You're safe. No need to worry."

She felt like she wanted to cry.

Or maybe she felt like she _should _want to cry.

Or…


	47. Working as Intended

_**I really pushed it with the, "I'll update again next week," thing this time around. I've been trying to work out various issues with my other projects, and couldn't get into the right frame of mind.**_

_** Part of it might have something to do with watching both Fullmetal Alchemist and Kuroshitsuji II, both of which are…well, not Bleach. Add to that reading the Naruto manga, and…well, inspiration is running all over the place right now.**_

_** Just the same, I hope you enjoy this installment of the Decay.**_

_** I think it's cute.**_

* * *

Hitsugaya woke up the next morning to find that he had been using Matsumoto's lap as a pillow. Sitting up and running a hand gingerly through his alabaster hair, the young captain stood up from his cot and looked back at his adjutant, who was sleeping upright, leaning back against the wall with her prized pet perched on her shoulder.

He found a smile. "Sleep well, Rangiku," he murmured, reaching over and leading her gently to lay down. She didn't stir. He turned away and walked silently out of the room. He stepped into the office he shared with Matsumoto, expecting to find—as he always did—an ungodly pile of unfinished paperwork overflowing off her desk and seeming to migrate onto his own.

He didn't.

Instead he saw a meticulously clean, spotlessly organized workspace. In Hitsugaya's inbox…there was nothing. In the box marked, "Outgoing," however, there was a stack of paper half as tall as he was, some stuffed into manila folders, others held together with large black binder clips. Still others had various notes attached to them.

On Matsumoto's desk was a similar pile, smaller than Hitsugaya's but still taller than usual.

He checked the top page of the stack on his own desk. It was a night sheet for the third seat officer's patrol. Sugimura's laborious print indicated that nothing of note had occurred that night on the grounds of the Tenth Division, but on the notes section, Matsumoto had written:

* * *

_**In consideration of the current and potentially continuing lack of high-ranking personnel, owing to a still-unknown illness, it is my opinion that we should expand nightly patrols so as to lessen the burden on each division as a whole. Sugimura's patrol, beginning in two days' time, will be set to include the first and second corridors of the 11**__**th**__** and 12**__**th**__** Division grounds, as well as his current route through the fifth and sixth corridors of the 10**__**th**__**.**_

_** The previous orders are hereby authorized by the hand of Matsumoto Rangiku, second-seat-ranked lieutenant of the Tenth Division, acting under the authority of Hitsugaya Toushirou, seventh captain of the Tenth Division.**_

* * *

Hitsugaya checked over the rest of the paperwork, and found each sheet to have been filled out. Perfectly. Not a single drop of ink was out of place, not a single sentence was unfinished. As he continued over to Matsumoto's desk, he found that it had received this same treatment.

Staring at the state of the place, Hitsugaya wondered if he was dreaming.

Arms crossed, turning over and over, he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do with this. He glanced toward the entrance to his bedchamber as Matsumoto stepped into the room. She was grinning broadly at him, and he couldn't help but grin back, unable to find the words.

Matsumoto said, "I figured you could use a slow morning for once. Go ahead, Taichou. Put your feet up." She gestured to the boy captain's desk. "I'll have Sei make some tea for you." And she all but forced him to sit down and lean back. Hitsugaya watched idly as the kitten hopped up onto his lap and started purring. He didn't bother to pretend he didn't like the little thing. He petted the tiny animal, and let out a sigh.

Matsumoto winked at him, and headed for the exit. She shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and slowly sank onto the floor. Before she even realized that she was tired, she had fallen asleep.

* * *

Hinamori was looking over a sheaf of papers as she passed Hitsugaya. She looked up at him and said, "Hitsugaya-taichou. Rangiku-san had some new proposals sent over. I was just checking them." She smiled nervously. "Stress seems to bring out the best in her." She lifted the paperwork and added, "These are brilliant."

"Stress," Hitsugaya murmured. He thought back over the past couple of weeks, and couldn't pinpoint any particular point at which he'd noticed any more stress from his vice-captain than usual. He frowned, thinking that he needed to start paying more attention. He said, after shaking his head, "So. You're willing to adopt the procedures?"

Hinamori nodded with a grin. "Of course."

"Excellent. Have you heard from anyone else?"

"Abarai-kun says he's interested. I think he wants to talk to Rangiku-san about some of the specific patrol routes she's suggesting, but that could probably be figured out in about an hour or two. We should probably see about setting up a meeting in the next couple of days."

Hitsugaya nodded with approval.

"Rangiku-san asked me to send over any of my own ideas," Hinamori said. She handed a sheet to Hitsugaya. "Could you give these to her, please?"

Hitsugaya nodded again. "I will."

She bowed. "Thank you, sir."

Hitsugaya inclined his head.

They each went their own way, and the thought occurred to both of them as they passed that while their relationship was nothing like what it had been, and would never be that way again, it was stronger, in its own way. Sometimes it felt distant, but in a way that worked. Hinamori still remembered what had happened the last time she'd gotten too close to someone. She didn't ever want to run the risk of doing anything like that again.

* * *

Hitsugaya found his third-seat officer, Sugimura, leaning against the wall beside the door to his office. He bowed his head. "Sir," he said to Hitsugaya, "as requested, I have allowed no one to enter." Hitsugaya nodded. "The vice-captain is still resting."

"Good," the boy captain said. "How have you been coming along on those manuals?"

Sugimura ran a hand over his short-cropped black hair and chuckled. "Well enough, sir. I'm chagrined to admit that I was unaware of the nature of protocol. There are a lot more steps to take than I would have thought. I suppose I was under the impression that paperwork was as simple as filling it out and tossing it in an 'Outgoing' tray."

Hitsugaya nodded again. "It's a common theory. No doubt Zaraki figured his captaincy would only entail swordplay. As I hear it, the Captain-Commander has largely given up on expecting reports from the Eleventh."

"Wouldn't surprise me, sir," said Sugimura.

Hitsugaya gestured dismissively. "It's late. Take leave, soldier. I'll handle it from here."

Sugimura bowed. In his first days, he had protested whenever he was given permission to leave his post early like this; he had thought it would make a good impression on his superiors if he offered to take on more than what was expected of him.

Matsumoto had said to him once, "You don't have to impress any of us, Sugimura. If we hadn't taken notice of you already, you wouldn't be Third Seat. And if you're _extra _ambitious, and you expect to one day rule this division, then you might do well to seek out those qualities expected of captains. Running yourself ragged to prove that you can is not one of those qualities. Now get out of here and cause some mischief. You make the rest of us look bad."

So yes, he bowed, and he said, "Thank you, sir. I'll be going, then."

And he left.

Hitsugaya stepped into his office and found Matsumoto lying on the couch in the middle of the room; she wasn't asleep, rather, she was staring up at the ceiling, petting the kitten. She didn't look at him when she said, "…I'm going to name him Ash."

The young captain raised an incredulous eyebrow. "What? He's _orange."_

Matsumoto laughed. It didn't last for long, but it was good to hear. Hitsugaya realized that he hadn't heard his vice-captain laugh in over a week. "I get this sneaking suspicion that we're going to die," she said, and any traces of mirth left the room in a hurry. "I can't help but think that…even if Aizen _isn't _behind this, this is what he wants."

"If he isn't behind it, I doubt this is what he wants," Hitsugaya murmured caustically. "He wants to get rid of us himself. If this _is _random happenstance…he won't be satisfied with it. Not by a long shot." He gave a dark little chuckle. "I almost hope it happens that way. We might die, but at least he won't get what he wants."

Matsumoto scratched Ash's chin and frowned at Hitsugaya. "You have a morbid sense of humor, Toushirou, do you know that?"

Hitsugaya smirked. "I've been told."

Matsumoto sat up and patted the cushion next to her. "Sit with me."

He did.

Matsumoto leaned her head against Hitsugaya's shoulder and sighed. "I don't know about this, Toushirou. Kurotsuchi is psychotic and pretty much a grade-A male appendage, but it usually doesn't take him _this _long to figure out a problem. And Unohana-taichou is a master. You'd think they'd be getting better by now."

Hitsugaya sighed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling like Matsumoto had been doing. "No use worrying about it. We have enough to be dealing with right now." He leaned his own head against Matsumoto's, closing his eyes. "We probably look ridiculous," he said.

"Shut up."

He did.

After a while, they fell asleep.

* * *

Three officers were guarding the entrance to Hitsugaya's office when Hinamori Momo approached it the following morning, holding a stack of papers. Perplexed, she glanced at each face in turn, met with the same expression: smug amusement.

"Ah…is Hitsugaya-taichou awake?"

Three heads shook left, right, back to center. Smirks rose in sync with each other.

"Um…Matsumoto-fukutaichou?"

Left, right, back to center. Still smirking.

"Could I leave these for them, then?" she asked, handing the paperwork to the one she thought was an officer. The woman's smirk shifted into a genuine smile, and she held up one finger across her lips. She turned around and pulled open the door, smoothly and silently.

She gestured for Hinamori to go inside.

Holding her paperwork to her chest, the young lieutenant did as directed.

The image that met her as she stepped inside all but melted Hinamori's heart. Matsumoto lay curled up on the couch, leaning against her captain's side, using his left shoulder as a pillow. One arm was slung across him. Hitsugaya's head leaned against Matsumoto's, with one arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Both were sound asleep. Their swords were lying against the couch, crossed over one another. The symbolism was not lost on Hinamori, who had heard—and believed—that when two shinigami formed a bond, their swords formed one as well.

The kitten which had become something of a Tenth Division mascot over the past couple of months was nestled in Hitsugaya's snow-white hair.

"Oh…my…god."

It took all that she had not to burst into a fit of giggling fit to wake the dead.

…Wait.

Shaking her head, Hinamori slipped over to Matsumoto's desk—which was closer—and set the stack down. She would have given her left arm for a camera right now, but all the same thought it was probably a good thing that she didn't. She didn't want to ruin what was probably the most peaceful morning her two friends were likely to have in months by embarrassing them about it.

She left the room with a grin on her face.


	48. Death the Second

_**So this is an important chapter. Not because it's one of my longest (though not **_**the **_**longest), and not because we're inching up on 50. Mostly it's because it's a rather heavy paradigm shift. Akin to making Ikkaku the new Fifth Division captain, or bringing Kudo into the mix. **_

_** Thus, I will not blather on. Let us experience decay.**_

* * *

Omaeda was next.

Soi Fong played it off, acted as though it made no difference to her whether the great, hulking idiot was at her side or buried beneath a headstone, but everyone who cared to look at the woman more deeply could tell that she was upset. For all she complained about the man's ineptitude, his misplaced arrogance and his oafish inability to do anything the way that she asked him, the fact remained that he _was _her adjutant, and she kept him around for a reason.

Not that Soi Fong would admit that she was fond of the man, whose full name most people couldn't even pronounce, and _nobody _cared to remember. But everyone who knew the two of them knew one thing: for all Omaeda's blundering, they worked well together. Their ceaseless banter almost never ceased to keep an enemy off-balance.

When the leaders of the Second Division fought with each other, it wasn't a sign of discord; it was the most clear-cut vision of just how well they worked together.

Nobody was especially surprised, therefore, that the Second Division was not an especially entertaining place to be, once its vice-captain was out of commission. Soi Fong was irritable enough when things were normal.

Hitsugaya was not one for morbid curiosity, but eventually he decided that Unohana's reports were not enough of an indication of the seriousness of the situation. Thus, one afternoon, during his break, the young captain decided to visit a colleague.

To say that Madarame Ikkaku didn't look like himself would have been as grave an understatement as to say that Kurosaki Ichigo was unpredictable. The face was almost the same; the expression, at least. It was one Hitsugaya had seen too many times before not to recognize. It was the look of a man in a situation to which oblivion would have been a far sweeter alternative. The thin mouth was set in a scowl, lips curled to show grimacing teeth that were beginning to look grey.

But that face was gaunt, sunken; the eyes were deep in his skull, surrounded by deep, dark circles. The bonfire Hitsugaya was so used to seeing blazing beneath the surface was flickering like a sputtering, dying candle. The body, usually corded steel sheathed in boiled leather, was beginning to curl in upon itself. Unohana's last report had stated that the Fifth Division captain could no longer move his shriveled, curving legs. He could barely move his arms anymore, and couldn't come close to writing his own evaluations anymore, as he'd done in the beginning. Now Isane-fukutaichou came in every morning to examine him, and wrote an update herself.

But when Hitsugaya stepped into the sickroom, Ikkaku turned his head and stared straight into his soul. "Come to...mock the fuck outta me...short-stack?" he croaked, and tried futilely to curve his lips into a smirk. It was a pitiful shadow of itself.

"Don't call me short-stack, Madarame," Hitsugaya replied in a quiet voice. "We may share a rank, but I still have seniority."

"Yeah...? I could...still kick yer...yer—" the man's body was suddenly racked with retching, hacking coughs, and Hitsugaya half-expected the man to start choking up blood. He didn't. "...Kick yer...mother...motherfuck..."

"I'm sure," Hitsugaya said, and couldn't quite manage a smirk of his own.

This wasn't pathetic. It was an offense.

"O-Oi...Hitsu...gay..."

"What is it, Madarame?" Hitsugaya asked, crossing his arms as if he thought he might ward off the infection; although Kurotsuchi _still _hadn't figured out how it spread. Ikkaku tried to lean forward, fell back against the pillows of his cot, forced himself back up and leaned heavily on one stick-like arm.

"That...bratty little...marshmallow they saddled me with..." Ikkaku's eyes, pain-stricken and furious, flashed with a momentary glimpse into their old gleam. "Still...pities herself...too fuckin' much. W-Whip her into...shape. Got me? I don't...I ain't gonna...come back to a...damn division full'a...pansy-ass children."

Hitsugaya smirked. "Hinamori was always sensitive. She's young. Older than I, most assuredly, but...young. She'll grow up eventually, and when that time comes, I'll dare you to find a better officer." He sensed the man's skepticism. "Think of it this way: she all but led her division at Aizen's behest, when she was a blind puppet."

Ikkaku seemed taken aback by this. He leaned back onto the cot.

"...Hmph. Maybe. You...keep up...her training. Don't...don't let'er slack. Got me?"

"I'll see to it personally."

"...Good. Now...get outta here. Fuckin' _hair's _too bright."

As he left the room, Hitsugaya almost laughed.

* * *

He walked among them with a stern, stoic face. Matsumoto stood at attention nearby, arms flat at her sides. He watched them, watched their puzzled, sweating, frightened faces. A part of him didn't blame them. Most of him hoped they didn't show such blatant vulnerability outside of their own walls, else Ikkaku was probably right.

Children.  
"In the spirit of my vice-captain's initiative to increase cooperation between the divisions of this corps," Hitsugaya declared in a loud, sharp tone of command that didn't seem to fit his body or his voice, "I have agreed to your captain's request to supervise the Fifth Division's personal training."

They had left Sugimura in charge of their own division's regimen; Matsumoto had insisted on being present, as her face was far more familiar on these grounds than Hitsugaya's. It showed dedication as well, she said, and Hitsugaya was inclined to agree.

He hoped Sugimura's report was thorough.

They were all holding wooden practice swords. They were all confused and irritated at this. Hitsugaya knew that, expected it, counted on it. He said, "As I do not know this division as well as your own captain, I have opted to conduct matters at the bottom of the ladder." Hitsugaya held out a hand, and Matsumoto placed a wooden sword into his hand. "Against this enemy of sickness, against whom none of us have any real knowledge, we are equal to the greenest of trainees. Rank, skill, dedication, it matters not to this thing. This disease. We face this as equals. We train as equals."

And Hitsugaya fell into rank with the rest of them, followed closely by Matsumoto.

They all seemed shocked at this.

Some were suspicious. Some were irritated. Some were outright offended.

But a great many more seemed pleased.

"Formation!" Hitsugaya called, and they all fell into position. "One! Three! Six!" Remembering their own training at this level, the soldiers all repeated the sequence as one voice.

_"Begin!"  
_  
They moved, all of them, as one body. Captain, adjutants, officers, footsoldiers; greenhorns, veterans; arrogant, humble. One mind. One body. One voice. One purpose.

One fear.

* * *

Hinamori Momo bowed deeply, and the officers with her followed suit. "We wanted to personally thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou, Matsumoto-fukutaichou, for your assistance today."

Hitsugaya nodded. "We are allies," he said. "It's high time we acted like it."

"Sir!" they all declared in response.

Hinamori raised her head, and she was grinning. Sweating, breathing hard, but grinning. "It was...exhilerating." She seemed to have wanted to say "fun," but stopped herself. Hitsugaya nodded with satisfaction, and Matsumoto smirked.

And it seemed like that would be the end of it.

It would have been.

Except,

"Permission to speak freely, _sir."_

Another officer, Hitsugaya thought he was Ikkaku's seventh-seat, had stepped up to them. He had short-cropped blond hair and a heavy, bulldog's face. Hitsugaya did not know his name, but was saved embarrassment when Hinamori said, "Toshinori-san? Is something the matter?"

"Certainly," said Toshinori, who bowed (barely) to her. He looked back at Hitsugaya. "Permission to speak freely," he repeated. "Sir."

Hitsugaya wasn't fond of the man's tone, and from the click in Matsumoto's jaw he could tell that she wasn't, either. But he inclined his head. "Of course, Officer Toshinori. Speak your mind."  
Toshinori puffed up. "I don't see the point of this 'joint training' experiment."

"The point is to take strides to foster inter-division cooperation to a degree such that we are able to act as a single force, as opposed to a fundamentally fragmented collection of forces," Hitsugaya said simply.

"We work well enough without that," Toshinori snapped.

"In times of peace and relative order, I agree," Hitsugaya offered. "However, it is my personal opinion that our current situation does not lend itself to proper defense and retaliation in times of war and discord."

"I think you're just trying to butt into other people's business. You want to take over this place, you can't just be satisfied with leading your own division, you have to take over someone else's. _Sir."_

Hinamori started to speak, but Hitsugaya held up a hand. "I see."

"Child prodigy," Toshinori sneered. "Genius. Wunderkind. This corps has been around for thousands of years. It's gotten along just fine as it is. Yamamoto-soutaichou has been leading us for ten times longer than you have been alive. What makes you think you know better than he?"

"Nothing," Hitsugaya said. "I am fully aware of my inexperience, Officer Toshinori. If the Captain-Commander were to come to me and tell me that this initiative would not serve the Gotei 13, I would of course aquiesce. However, he has not. He has given his expressed approval. Therefore, my vice-captain and I are moving forward with it. If you have concerns, I would very much appreciate hearing them. Please."

"Yes, we all know the sort of _initiative _you and your...ahem...vice-captain are _moving forward_ with." Hitsugaya was stone-faced, and did not respond. "The 13 divisions aren't an army. They're a collaboration. If one country and another are allies, are they led by the same people? Do they become mirrors of each other? What you're suggesting isn't going to facilitate anything but group-think. We'll lose our individuality. We'll forget why we're separated in the first place."

"Two countries can both be at war with a third, and not be allies," Hitsugaya replied. "The divisions do not coordinate with each other when the situation warrants it. We are not allies. Aizen and his forces just happen to have targeted all of us. What I suggest is, indeed, an alliance. Something we do not have at the moment. In my opinion."

"And if it's _Hitsugaya-taichou's _opinion, why, it _must _be right."

"Toshinori-san, that's enough," Hinamori said, inching up on anger.

"No, it's all right, Hinamori." Hitsugaya held up a hand again. "I asked him to speak his mind."

"I don't know how you managed to reach captaincy so young," Toshinori said, "but it's rather clear to me that you shouldn't have been put into the position, if _this _is the kind of leadership you're providing. Come back when you have a clue how things actually work."

Matsumoto cleared her throat. "You present legitimate concerns, Officer," she said waspishly, "and they will be taken into very serious consideration in spite of the deliberate antagonism with which you've chosen to present them." Toshinori blinked at her. "However, I would _correct _you on a very specific point. While it is true that my captain first presented the idea to me, _I _was the one to formally propose this inter-division cooperative effort. I have been an officer in this division much longer than Hitsugaya-taichou. He is the third captain to have led the Tenth Division since I first donned this uniform. I suggest you find a more prevalent and accurate argument than inexperience if you plan to continue this discussion."

Toshinori swelled like a frog. "As if you're a _real _officer, anyway," he sniffed derisively. "What are you playing at, anyway? Eye candy for your captains. All three of them. That's all you—"

"You overstep your rank, _soldier."_

It was not Hitsugaya who spoke. Nor Matsumoto.

It was Hinamori.

Toshinori flinched.

"I understand that Hitsugaya-taichou asked you to speak freely," she continued in a tone rimmed with ice, "but I would remind you that you are _my _subordinate, and you answer to _me. _I will _not tolerate _such blatant disrespect, _toward _anyone, _from _anyone in my division. Do you understand me?"

"I...ah...Hinamori-fuku—"

_"Do you understand me?"_

"...Yes, ma'am."

Hitsugaya drew in a sigh, shook his head, and settled himself. "Before I speak, I wish it known that this is _not _conduct becoming of a captain, and that I fully admit to hypocrisy and will regret my actions as soon as I have finished. However, I will speak: you hold to an undeserved sense of superiority borne, I suspect, of the glowing reputation your division _once had, _before Aizen Sousuke proved himself a traitor to this court. You have shown blatant disregard and disrespect for your own vice-captain's integrity, _and _mine, which leads me to think you hold to male chauvanism as well, like any number of backward-thinking simpletons I have met. I cannot intervene on Hinamori-fukutaichou's behalf in order to teach you proper respect for _her_ office, but I _will _say this. Remember, the next time you see fit to speak to my subordinate in such a derisive tone, _Seventh-Seat Toshinori."_

Hitsugaya scowled, and the temperature dropped, and Toshinori went pale.

"You. Are. Expendable."

* * *

"Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it."

Matsumoto glanced over at her captain. "There are always naysayers, Toushirou. We knew that before we started. Don't let him get to you. All in all, I'd say today was a resounding success."

Hitsugaya grunted. "I made an embarrassment out of myself _and _my position. I insulted you, I insulted Hinamori, and all I accomplished was to give the great idiot even more reason to turn a blind eye to what we all need."

Matsumoto smiled. "One opinion won't ring true in opposition to the majority," she said. "It's the nature of an organization. For good or ill, the minority almost never wins. Toshinori's opinion doesn't count for much. It's the opinion of the higher-ups, your comrades, and especially the opinion of the Captain-Commander that matters."

"No," Hitsugaya said. "The whole point is to get _everyone _working together."

"That's not going to happen."

"Nonetheless, _this _one isn't going to work with us as a direct result of my behavior," Hitsugaya said. "I'm responsible for this. I made it all sound like a joke. Like all I want is for people to listen to _me. _I proved him right."

"He wasn't interested in the beginning," Matsumoto said, waving a sheet of paper around as Ash batted at one corner, "or did you forget the fact that _he _came to _you?"_  
"I might have tried to convince him to try, rather than push him away with my own...faux-macho strutting." Hitsugaya growled with disgust, and leaned back in his chair. "What did that prove? What did that accomplish? I'm an _idiot."_

"What was _his _conduct, if not faux-macho strutting?" Matsumoto asked.

"I didn't have to sink to his level."

Matsumoto was used to this. When Hitsugaya got it into his head to be disappointed in himself, no amount of arguing could convince him otherwise. He had to get himself out of this funk. She may as well have been talking to a brick wall for all her words were helping. He was brooding now, glaring at the door into his private chamber. Normally, Matsumoto might have enlisted the help of one Hinamori Momo to help. But she figured that wouldn't work this time.

She sighed, stood up, and walked over to the young captain's desk.

Leaning over it, she kissed one corner of Hitsugaya's mouth.

"I'm glad you did," she said, and kissed the other.

* * *

In spite of the hang-up with Seventh-Seat Officer Toshinori Katsu, training with the Fifth Division went well over the next few days. They began integrating some of the Tenth's soldiers into the exercises, further facilitating proper coordination. As the initiative continued, more and more officers from other divisions began to take notice.

Hitsugaya dared to think that this might just take hold after all.

Matsumoto, for her part, was already claiming victory.

Everything finally seemed to be repairing itself. Things were really starting to feel like they were back to normal. That they had a real chance at beating this; the decay, and Aizen, and anything else.

And then it all fell apart.

One day, instead of Korutsuchi Nemu coming to the captains of the other divisions personally, as she usually did, the Twelfth's third-seat officer made the daily report. He was ashen, stone-faced, and all but petrified when he reached Hitsugaya's office.

"Report, soldier," the white-haired boy commanded.

"S-S-Sir...Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou...she has...she has fallen ill."

Hitsugaya blinked. "What? What about the others? What about Madarame, and Hisagi? Zaraki?"

"They...the others...are...well, they aren't improving, but they aren't..."

And he stopped, chewing on his lower lip.

"What?" Hitsugaya demanded, standing up. "What is it, man?"

"The others are not...any worse. Except..."

"Except? _Except?"_

"...Omaeda-fukutaichou. Sir. He's...he died just after daybreak this morning."

* * *

…_**Yeah. I went there.**_

_** First, let me admit that both Sugimura and Toshinori are names taken from a specific source (Battle Royale, a story I've referenced before); Sugimura comes from a character I like, Toshinori from one that I rather detest.**_

_** Does it show?**_

_** There's a method to the madness at work here. I hope that you will continue along with me to the conclusion of this storyline and see what I'm planning. If I do my job right, it will all be worth it in the end.**_

_** Also, I'm graduating!**_

_** Yes. I've finished the first rung of my college career. True, I plan to be an educator, so the road's not finished yet, but…hey, cap and gown time! Whoo! Or…whatever it is those crazy kids are saying these days.**_

_** See you all next week.**_


	49. The Cavalry

_**Big project was due yesterday, big presentation due Friday, finals in a week, exam last week. And the strange thing is, compared to my roommate, I'm actually not all that busy. Like, at all. But it's affected the creative process to some degree, and I wasn't able to work out what happened in this section of the story for a while.**_

_** I have a feeling we're winding down near to the end of this storyline, but I can never be sure. These things have a way of getting out of my hands and finding their own path. I've been trying to juggle any number of projects lately, and I still haven't exactly caught up to where I want to be. I'll get there.**_

_** In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this section of "The Decay."**_

_** Time to pull out the big guns, as it were.**_

_** Let's hope it works.**_

* * *

Zaraki needed full-time attendants just to keep him breathing. Hisagi had lost the ability to speak. A number of promising officers had joined the ranks in the infirmary. Shihouin Yuroichi had stepped into Omaeda's position, and the only thing keeping the Gotei 13 from absolute panic was the fact that the Fifth, Sixth, and Tenth Divisions had—in the midst of this chaos—managed to keep themselves in some species of control.

"Are you still averse to having children in this organization?" Kyouraku asked Kudo Hideaki as they watched Hitsugaya train with the entirety of the Fifth Division. Kudo, for his part, seemed unable to speak. "Yama-jii does not make appointments without good reason," he continued. "If not for his backing of Rangiku-chan's new plan, we would be looking at a full-scale riot by now." Kyouraku didn't look proud to be admitting this.

Kudo looked strangely drained. Pale and tired. He said, "…I was mistaken," he said. "This is no child. My job is not to teach him, or to train him. My job is to emulate him." He looked at his comrade in arms, fire alight in his dark eyes. "Our people need leaders. We are those leaders. I think it's time we rose to Hitsugaya's level."

Kyouraku actually smiled. "I think you're right."

Hitsugaya Toushirou had discarded his captain's cloak, shitagi, and kosoda, leaving his upper body bare as he continued to shout out attack formations. Rivulets of sweat ran down his body like waterfalls, and each of the soldiers that trained alongside him looked just as hot, just as miserable, just as determined.

And all of a sudden, he switched his grip, flipped his training sword upside down, and slammed the tip down into the ground. As one, without a single direction, the others followed suit. As they stood stolid and unmoving like statues in a graveyard, Hitsugaya began to speak.

"For our brothers, and our sisters, we fight." His voice rang out like the roar of the dragon trapped inside him. "For our people, young and old, we fight. For our pride, we fight. For our honor, we fight."

Hitsugaya left his training sword where it stood; as he stepped forward, Matsumoto took up Hyourinmaru, and with the air of an acolyte performing in a ritual, she held it out to him. The white-haired captain grasped the ice dragon's hilt and drew it forth, sending a ringing report into the air in the aftermath of his voice.

Holding up his blade, he said: "For those who stand at our sides, we fight!"

"We fight," came the voices of every shinigami standing in the courtyard, soft and solemn.

"For those who watch our backs, we fight!"

"We fight."

"For those who depend on us for safety, we fight!"

_"We fight."_

"For those who came before us, and showed us the path, we fight!"

_"We fight."_

"For those who have fallen, _we fight!"_

_ "We fight!"_

_"FOR OMAEDA NIKKOUTAROUEMON YOSHIAYAMENOSUKE MARECHIYO, WE FIGHT!"_

_**"WE FIGHT!"**_

Each member of the Fifth Division drew their zanpakutou and raised it in salute.

Kyouraku was grinning broadly.

Kudo was stunned again into speechlessness.

Hitsugaya had hardly ever had a word to say about Soi Fong's vice-captain, but they could tell, even at this distance, that he meant every word; that his cracked and bleeding knuckles, and his blistered hands, and his searing muscles, were all for one man's memory.

Hundreds of soldiers, just as battered and just as bloody, had joined him.

And they weren't even his own.

* * *

"That was inspired," Matsumoto murmured thoughtfully as she leaned back in her chair, flexing and un-flexing the fingers of her right hand. As she picked up her pen again, she held it up as if in salute. "We fight!" she declared. "You really got them fired up out there. Hinamori was crying."

Hitsugaya didn't seemed all that pleased. He said, "That always was a problem for her. Crying."

"Oh, come on," Matsumoto admonished. "It makes her human. Lord knows we could use more of it around here. Aizen was never flustered. Never once did he bat an eyelash. No surprises, no anger, no sorrow, no regret. He was a stone wall at best, a glass mirror at worst. Hinamori can't afford to be all business, because that's what Aizen was."

"Hm," said Hitsugaya, brooding. He didn't seem convinced, but neither did he seem shut off to the notion.

"You can't let this get to you so much," Matsumoto said. "It'll kill you. If we're going to get through this, we can't afford the luxury of grief."

Ash hopped up into Hitsugaya's lap and began kneading his leg, purring. The boy captain stared at it, an unreadable expression on his face. "That sounds like an excuse for apathy," he said sulkily.

Matsumoto smiled. "You care about your soldiers, you care about your comrades. I love that about you, believe me. I do. Your predecessor," her expression darkened, "only pretended, and _his _predecessor didn't even bother with that much. But let it out the way you did today. Don't let it consume you. It'll be the end of you. And I don't want a new captain. I've just started liking the one I've got."

Hitsugaya's head raised, and he leveled a suspicious glare on her. "Just started?"

Matsumoto grinned. "It took some convincing. But you're a good kid."

Hitsugaya snorted derisively. "Shut up."

But a smile was playing on his lips.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Captain-Commander?"

She was from a noble house, and she was used to dealing with important people. Nonetheless, the leader of the Gotei 13 was an entirely different enterprise, and Kuchiki Rukia found herself barely able to handle the pressure in the room. Her captain's hand on her shoulder was the only thing keeping her in the room. Without his calming presence, she would have long since bolted.

"We are losing too many soldiers," Yamamoto declared in his dry rumble. "We cannot afford this breach any longer. Captain Hitsugaya and Vice-Captain Hinamori seem to be keeping order for the time being, but one more blow like Omaeda will cripple us."

"…I understand, sir, but…"

"Are we sure that _this _measure is the most efficient way of handling the current situation?" Ukitake asked, and Rukia had never felt quite so grateful for him.

"Yes," Yamamoto said sharply. "I see no other alternative. Will you do this, Officer Kuchiki?"

Rukia sighed heavily. "…I will, Captain-Commander, sir."

"Very well. Dismissed."

* * *

It struck Kurosaki Ichigo that he hadn't heard from his shinigami comrades in a number of weeks. Life had actually been rather quiet as a result, which—while pleasant—made him rather nervous.

"You worry too much, Kurosaki," Ishida Uryuu declared, looking immaculately superior as he always did. "You have a hero complex. You have to save everyone. You don't have your father's expertise _or _your sister's accommodating personality, so you protect what you can't nurture, regardless of whether they need it or not. You need to stop."

Ichigo sneered. _"You _need to stop dressing like you're the last son of Krypton," he snapped. "Seriously, with the cape again?"

Ishida sneered right back. "Way to avoid the point."

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you, your _jacket's _too loud."

Ishida rolled his eyes. "Why I deal with you, I'll never kno—" He stopped, swept his gaze hawk-like across the way to find Kuchiki Rukia, in her shinigami uniform with her hand on her sword, walking up to them.

She bowed in front of Ichigo.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, Substitute Shinigami. The Court needs your help."

* * *

_**They always seem to need Ichigo's help, but have you ever noticed that the shinigami never do much in the way of making him feel wanted or welcome? They seem to think that since he has power, he owes it to them to obey them, the same as any officer of the court, in spite of the fact that he isn't.**_

_** I have to wonder if this is the first time his help has ever been honestly **_**requested.**

_**Things seem to be heating up a bit.**_


	50. Call to the Living

_**A recent death in the family is part of the reason for the delay in getting this chapter written and posted. Each piece I have put up recently has been at least partially inspired by that. A month ago tomorrow, my country lost one of its devoted servants. They say that there's no such thing as an ex-Marine, and nowhere was that truer than in my grandfather, who died on the 20**__**th**__** of May, 2011, at the age of 70.**_

_** You probably wouldn't have understood any of what I've been dedicating to your memory recently, Grandpa, but I hope the gesture is enough. **_

_**Semper fidelis.**_

* * *

"Look…I'll do what I can," said Kurosaki Ichigo, in a quiet voice that nobody in Soul Society had ever associated with him, "but I'm not a doctor. The old man…he might have an idea what to do, or Urahara-san, but…I defend. I don't heal."

"We know," said Ukitake, standing well clear of Ichigo as he stared into the sickroom where Zaraki Kenpachi looked ready to die, and Madarame Ikkaku was staring at the ceiling with a kind of intangible fury that ran so deep that Ichigo felt it pressing against him. He felt for the others, but it was the pair of 11th-divisioners that had caught, and held, his focus. He hadn't known Omaeda-fukutaichou from Adam; Kuchiki Byakuya he knew, but not very well. The man was still a mystery for the most part, and while it was clear that _Rukia _was most heavily effected by the fact that her Niisama was in danger of dying, it was Ikkaku and Kenpachi that kept drawing Ichigo's attention.

The idea that _any _sickness, living or dead, could hold those two down was so far beyond the scope of his understanding that it almost made _him _ill. This didn't happen. This _couldn't _happen. Not like this. They couldn't die like this.

And yet…

"Then what can I _do _here?" Ichigo asked his friend's captain, who actually looked healthy in comparison to the others in the room. Ukitake looked uncharacteristically grim, and he didn't look at Ichigo right away. "What, exactly, does the old man think I'm capable of? Call in my dad, call in Sandal-Hat, hell…call my _sisters. _They'd at least be able to _help _the situation, for fuck's sake!"

"We have their care…covered," Ukitake said. "Our very best are working around the clock to find a cure. We don't need help for them. We needs someone to fill in for them." He looked at Ichigo with a somber expression on his face. "The Ninth Division has been led by its vice-captain, Hisagi Shuuhei, ever since the defection. He is, of all the junior officers, the best suited to assist you. This court asks you, Kurosaki Ichigo…to take up the Ninth's captaincy."

Ichigo stared openly for a moment, sure that he'd misunderstood.

He whirled on Rukia, who didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"We have already spoken to Urahara Kisuke," Ukitake said, "and he has been in touch with your family. All are willing to accommodate you. We have extended an offer to the modified soul. If he agrees to take up your place in school, and cause none of his usual mischief, Kurotsuchi-taichou has agreed to relinquish the necessary resources to afford him a permanent body of his own. Your presence in the living world will be accounted for. Please, Ichigo-kun. We need you. All of Soul Society needs you."

"You have done more for this court than most of our officers combined," Rukia murmured softly. "Your strength is unmatched, your loyalty unquestionable. We have made mistakes in the past. We have forgotten that you are not, in spite of all that you have done, an official member of our organization. We have treated you unfairly, unjustly, and we have no right to expect this of you." She looked at her brother, then back at Ichigo. "Please, Ichigo. If you would help us now, I swear by everything I have ever believed…we _will _repay you. For everything. In whatever capacity we can, in whatever way you wish. Please. _Please."_

Ichigo looked from officer to soldier, from friend to leader, and found that his voice had left him. He had nothing to say. He didn't know what to think, what to do, how to react. His entire body seemed to go stiff as a statue, and his brain froze.

Eventually, he left out a heavy sigh, lowered his head.

"You don't have to make the decision immediately," Ukitake said, and it sounded like it was physically painful for him to say it. "I know that it is unfair to expect you to do something like this on such short notice. Please…think it over. But give us your decision quickly. We have very little time. If we don't act soon…this court will fall."

Ichigo shook his head and thought,

_What else is new?_

* * *

Kurosaki Yuzu was the strong one, regardless of how it may have looked on the outside. Her sister knew it better than anyone. Karin put up a strong front, she put on a tough mask, but she was the insecure one, the one who didn't know what to do with herself. Yuzu had known, from the word go, that when their mother died she was the one who would take up the slack. Yuzu had known what to do, how to do it, when to do it. She knew her place in life. She knew her role.

Karin didn't have the faintest clue.

On the outside, they were opposites; Yuzu was sensitive, empathetic, soft and gentle. Karin was brave, tough, closed-off. And on the inside, they were opposites, too; Yuzu was strong, resilient, able. Karin was unsure, frightened, stunted.

They had never been more like the twins they were supposed to be, though, than when their big brother called them into his room that night. If there was one thing on which the younger children of the Kurosaki family agreed without hesitation, it was on the subject of their brother. If anybody had asked them, point-blank, what their brother was…they both would have had the same answer, spoken with absolute conviction and no hesitation whatsoever.

"He's a hero."

Once he'd risen up past the pain, guilt, and hopelessness of Masaki's sudden departure from their lives, Ichigo had found himself. He was the protector. He was the shield. And when he called for them, they answered. They dropped whatever they were doing and ran to him, because they knew that it had to be important.

In the face of that, they were children again.

The eldest Kurosaki child was standing at his window when they slipped into his sanctuary, hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed like he always was; form-fitting jeans and a shirt just tight enough that it might be too small. He was impossibly tall that night, and when he turned to face his sisters, both Karin and Yuzu could see something in his eyes that they hadn't seen for years.

Grief.

He said, "I haven't really said much about what the hell I've been doing for the past hundred years. Feels like that long, anyway. I know you've been wondering. Haven't you? Why I haven't been around, why I haven't been taking you guys out to the movies or helping around the house or moping and cursing when Oyaji won't let me help in the clinic."

They wanted to say, _No. You're growing up, that's what happens, it's okay, don't worry._

The last thing either of them wanted was for Ichigo to worry, or to feel guilty, or to be upset in any way. But they couldn't say what they wanted to say. They looked at each other, they looked back at their brother, and they nodded, all in sequence like they were being controlled by a single mind.

Ichigo stepped over to his bed and sat down, sighing.

"We've all known there're ghosts pretty much since we were old enough to talk," Ichigo said. "That there's a life after this one. We didn't know how it worked or what the hell it all meant, but we knew it was there." Yuzu was first to step over and sit next to him; Karin followed suit, sitting at his other side. They looked at him worshipfully, as though he was some kind of prophet. "Well, I found out a while back that it's not just haunting and exorcising and disappearing. There's a structure to it. There's a _place. _They call it Soul Society, 'cuz they're about as original as a soap opera and half as subtle. And this Soul Society has a military, to defend them. You know those ghosts we see? They're split into two categories. The normal ones are called Plusses. The others, the ones we need defending from, they're Hollows."

The girls were paying rapt attention, hanging on every word. Karin knew some of it already, and she'd told her sister enough of it that Yuzu probably understood. But it was the first time he'd actually said _anything _about why he disappeared for days, weeks at a time. They weren't going to interrupt him. If he thought they were blissfully ignorant of everything, so much the better.

"I've been working for them," Ichigo continued. "That's why I keep disappearing all the time. I'm in charge of defending our town from Hollows. They show up every so often, looking to consume other souls. The Plusses. They call us Shinigami."

Two identical sets of eyes went wide at the title.

"But...y'know, I'm not dead. So I'm not official. I'm a substitute. A representative. But..." He sighed. "Well. Y'know, it's dangerous, but we do all right. They usually let me come home in between big missions. I'm not enlisted, so they can't force me to stay."

"Ichi-nii..." Karin murmured, worried, "...why are you telling us this?"

"Oniichan?"

Ichigo sighed. "...They want me in. They're sick, a lot of the officers. Captains. The most powerful of the Shinigami lead the rest of them in military divisions. The captains are...crazy strong. Best of the best. But a bunch of 'em came down with something, and...they want me to come in, pick up the slack."

"Can you do that?" Karin asked. "They're going to let you in, just like that?"

"I haven't been to their acadamy," Ichigo answered slowly, "but I've got more intensive field experience than a lot of 'em. So...yeah. They're askin' me to lead one of the divisions."

"Lead?" Yuzu asked. "They're making you a _captain?"_

"...Yeah."

"An elite?" Karin asked. "You'll be one of the top brass?"

Ichigo chuckled, offering a smirk. "...Yeah, guess so."

"That...is the coolest thing I've ever heard."

"Oniichan's a military captain!"

"Yeah, yeah, it's cool," Ichigo said, smiling and ruffling his sisters' hair. "But...it means I'm staying there. In Soul Society. They're going to get a replacement to go to school for me, help out around the house. I don't know how long I'll be there."

Karin's face fell. "...Again."

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "Again."

Yuzu looked sad. "...Can you visit? Sometimes?"

"I dunno."

"Can _we _visit sometimes?"

"...I'm not sure."

Looking crestfallen, the girls nodded. "It sounds important," Karin said. "You have an important job. They wouldn't ask if they didn't need you. So...so..." She hugged him. "Be careful, Ichi-nii."

Ichigo held her to him, stroking back her hair. "...I'm always careful, Karin."

Yuzu hugged her brother next. "Be safe!" she cried.

"Don't worry," Ichigo said, pulling Yuzu close with his other arm. "I'll probably be safer than usual now. I won't be fighting. I'll probably be doing paperwork or something." This seemed to calm both of his sisters, but the elder Kurosaki couldn't help but wonder if _he _believed it. He didn't know what this sickness was. He didn't know if it only affected the spirits of the dead; if it did, he was probably safe.

But...that didn't mean anything.

If there was one thing Kurosaki Ichigo had learned as a Shinigami, it was that expectations didn't mean a damned thing.

* * *

The Shinigami came to the Kurosaki household that night. They came in through Kurosaki Ichigo's bedroom window, as was par for the course by now, to find that Ichigo was not there. Instead, an older man, with a thick black beard and messy black hair, was seated at the desk, watching them.

"You never change, Ukitake," said Kurosaki Isshin. "Though I wouldn't have expected you to come in through the window. _That's _new."

The white-haired man chuckled with a faint blush. "Yes, well...Kuchiki seems fond of it." He gestured, and Kuchiki Rukia hopped up into the room. "We had hoped to speak to your son."

"I'm sure," Isshin said, standing and crossing his arms. "I'm afraid, tonight, that I can't allow that." As the softspoken captain started to speak, he added, "I'm sure he intends to accept the mission you've given him. But he can start tomorrow. He _will _start tomorrow." The doctor's face turned hard. "I do hope that I have made myself clear?"

Ukitake frowned. "...May I ask why this must be postponed?"

Isshin seemed to think on this for a moment, then gestured vaguely. The two shinigami followed him as he stepped down the hall. Out in the front room, in front of the television, were his children.

Ichigo sat in the middle of the couch, head laying back and snoring loudly. A videogame controller was lying in his lap. Using her brother's knee as a pillow, Karin lay huddled beneath a blanket. Yuzu was cradled against Ichigo's other side. A second controller lay on the floor.

Ukitake Jyuushirou saw this, and understood.

"Now, what were you saying?" Isshin asked.

He nodded. "We'll be back tomorrow," he said.

The retired Shinigami smirked. "That's what I thought."

* * *

_**And thus ends the 50**__**th**__** chapter of "Best I Am," perhaps the most surprising piece of work I've ever put out on the intarwebz. It started almost purely as an experiment, dedicated to fleshing out my favorite characters and figuring out why I found them so fascinating.**_

_** Now it's growing into its own version of the Bleach universe, with a number of layers and a level of complexity I never anticipated. That isn't to say I'm some deep, revolutionary wordsmith who breathed new life into the franchise or anything nearly so arrogant; I only mean to say that I never intended for things to go this far. I never saw it turning into anything more than a fun little experiment.**_

_** Funny how things work out that way.**_

_** I hope you enjoyed the ride so far. Here's to another 50.**_

_** Take care, all. 'Til next time.**_


	51. Any Other Desk Job

_**One of the more unsavory setbacks to being busy is that it's so easy to let certain activities fall to the side, not forgotten but certainly neglected. This semester hasn't necessarily been my busiest in history, but it has been the most difficult transition. I've been reading so much that the idea of reading for recreation is almost nauseating at this point. Writing, similarly, has taken a blow.**_

_**However, the semester is almost over. I will have three weeks between semesters, and I intend to use it to catch up on writing. We begin here, with chapter 51. Welcome to Ichigo's debut as a captain in the Gotei 13.**_

* * *

Nobody was more surprised at Kurosaki Ichigo's ability to adapt to the day-to-day drudgery of captaincy than those who thought they'd known him best.

Nobody was more relieved than the former substitute's new vice-captain, who could barely lift up his head anymore. When Hisagi saw Ichigo step up to his cot—which he was sure would be his deathbed—his sunken face brightened into a grin for the first time in days.

Ichigo spent his days at a desk, reading. It was very much how he figured his teacher spent her office hours, and it wasn't exactly different enough from his coursework at school that it took him any real time to adjust.

"Kurosaki-taichou," came the voice of Ichigo's third-seat officer, a tall woman with a girl's smile and a dragon's temper. Ichigo glanced up at her.

"Mm?"

She shouldered through the doorway with a stack of paper in her arms. The rest of the officers had thought to haze their new leader by offering him no leeway whatsoever, but so far the eldest of the Kurosaki children hadn't batted an eyelash. If anything, he'd been perpetually bored. "A delivery for you, sir."

"What is it, Hiyoshi-san?" Ichigo asked mildly.

"Preliminary examination texts," she replied. "You were fast-tracked into your position due to necessity, sir. When things return to some semblance of equilibrium, Yamamoto-soutaichou wants to be sure that you're prepared for the academy's captaincy exam."

It crossed Ichigo's mind to tell his new officer that once things returned to "equilibrium," he intended to go right the hell back home, but he reminded himself that however _he _felt about the old psychopath that ran this circus, Ichigo now had an entire division of lower-ranked shinigami looking directly to him for leadership.

That included Hiyoshi

"Thanks. Set it over there. I'll start looking it over tonight."

Hiyoshi relieved her arms of their burden and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Kurosaki-taichou."

"'S my pleasure." Ichigo set down his pen. "How goes training?" he asked. Hiyoshi had been put in charge of the men and women at arms so that Ichigo could concentrate on learning the ins and outs of his new position, as well as catch up on the paperwork. Paperwork, he thought. What a simple word for the least efficient method of exchanging information, in this world or any other.

"Very well, sir. The men are relieved to have a hero of the Great Rebellion guiding them."

Ichigo nearly vomited. "Hero of the…Great Rebellion," he repeated.

"Yes, sir. Were it not for you, we all would surely be dead. The higher-ups don't want to admit your influence. It damages their pride. But we know the truth, sir."

Ichigo didn't know what he thought about that. He _did _know that he didn't believe it. But again, these people were relying on him. "It wasn't just me," he said finally. "But thanks. Let me know if you can use me for anything."

Hiyoshi smiled graciously as she bowed again. "That's my line, sir." And she backed out of the room.

Ichigo picked up his pen and almost laughed.

Then he almost cried.

Hero? What a cosmic joke.

* * *

"Kurosaki," came a voice that was too familiar to ignore.

Ichigo looked up without seeing. "Toushirou."

For once, Hitsugaya didn't respond with any species of anger or irritation at being called by his given name. He stepped inside Ichigo's office. "How goes the adjustment?" he asked.

Ichigo wasn't sure if Hitsugaya actually wanted an answer, or if he was just giving out a standard greeting. He replied, "Can't complain."

"How would a change in the status quo strike you?"

The high-schooler-turned-god-soldier raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what you're getting at. What's your angle?"

Hitsugaya gestured. "Walk with me."

Shrugging, Ichigo rose from his desk and followed the young captain out into the hallway. As they walked, Hitsugaya said, "We've been keeping tabs on the population of Soul Society, watching for anyone exhibiting symptoms of this disease."

"I'd hope so. Anything so far?"

"Barring a few extremely rare exceptions," Hitusgaya replied, picking a bit of lint off of his left shoulder, "the residents of Rukongai haven't been struck. Those we have found who are suffering from its effects have been brought here, to the Fourth's infirmary, for observation and…what passes for treatment."

"Who got hit first? Kenpachi, right?"

Hitsugaya nodded.

"So…maybe it's got something to do with spiritual pressure?"

"That's what we're banking on." Hitsugaya gave a salute to a patrolling shinigami who stopped to bow. Ichigo held up a hand in greeting. "Lower-ranking shinigami haven't been hit, and almost none of Rukongai. The only exceptions were potential candidates for the academy."

Ichigo frowned. He wondered how long it would be before this virus took hold of _him._ He had enough _reiatsu _to feed an army of these things…whatever they were. How often had Ichigo heard that he—like Zaraki—overcame an unrefined and unpracticed technique with sheer force? Most shinigami spent decades, if not centuries, perfecting their combat skills. How else could Ichigo, barely nearing sixteen years old, hope to stand up to them?

Yet he had. More than once.

"Preliminary hypotheses tell us the pathogen feeds on _reiatsu, _and once the victim is…run dry, the body can't even muster enough energy to fight off the pressure of Soul Society itself. The body…caves in."

Ichigo grimaced. "That sounds…horrible."

Hitsugaya stopped in front of a building, and Ichigo glanced up at it. He hadn't been paying any attention whatsoever to his surroundings as they walked, focused instead on the multitude of emotions running across Hitsugaya's young face. Ichigo had never been what you would call astute at reading the feelings and moods of other people…or at least, he _hadn't _ever been that. Now, though, it was easy.

Or maybe Hitsugaya was just especially transparent.

They were standing in front of the barracks for the Third Division. Hitsugaya stepped up to a patrolling officer. "If you could, deliver a message to Captain Kudo for me: Captain Hitsugaya and Captain Kurosaki are outside the barracks, waiting for him. He should be expecting us."

The officer saluted. "I'll deliver the message right away, sirs."

"Kudo?" Ichigo asked.

"Ichimaru's replacement," Hitsugaya said. "He's had…a complicated time transiting into a position of authority. However, he requested to speak with you, once he learned that you would be joining our ranks."

"Why?" Ichigo asked, suspicious. He had little reason to trust people he didn't trust in the best of situations.

Hitsugaya frowned. "…He thinks he has a way to curb the symptoms of this disease. And he says that someone like you is…instrumental to its success."


	52. Need to Know Basis

_**I have tried any number of experiments with this series, and the most recent arc is no exception. I've been trying to figure out for a while now, how I might be able to close this one out. The short answer is, I haven't. This chapter isn't the conclusion. However, it's heading in that direction. After this arc is concluded, I'll be going back to my old method of writing self-contained oneshot chapters.**_

_** I apologize for the delay in getting this out. It took me a long time to figure out how to write this one. I've been doing a lot of work, trying to keep up with my writing lately.**_

_** Thanks to everyone reading this for your patience and support. It means the world to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

_** Have fun.**_

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #1  
__Kurosaki Ichigo, Captain_**

* * *

_Oyaji,_

_ They tell me this is all a part of my job, and that every officer in the Gotei 13 sends regular updates to any known family members, but I have this feeling my third-seat's just a soft touch. She's insisting I write this, and she's watching over my shoulder right now._

_ Being a captain pretty much feels the same as going to school; there's a crap-ton of paperwork nobody reads, a bunch of protocols nobody pays attention to, and phys ed's been replaced by drills. But it looks like they're getting a handle on this disease that's going around. New guy, took over the 3__rd__ Division, name's Kudo. Way he explained it to me, his zanpakutou works like an amplifier. I guess this…virus thing, there're millions of 'em in each patient. They feed on reiatsu. So what Kudo thinks he could do is transfer so much reiatsu so quickly into them that the infected reiatsu would end up with no choice but to burn itself out. Like a bone marrow transplant, I guess. He's been working with the 12__th__, and he figures that he should be able to kill off enough of the infected reiatsu that they could recover the rest of the way on their own._

_ I guess they've already tried this, and it has some effect, but nowhere near enough to work as a cure. Kudo hasn't tried it on anyone by himself 'cuz he figures it'd kill him. This is where I come in. Guess I'm like a battery. He's heard about me, and I guess he figures I'm the next best bet after Zaraki, who'd have been his first choice. 'Course, Zaraki was the first to come down with this thing._

_ He's setting things up now._

_ I'll write again when something new happens._

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #2  
__Kurosaki Ichigo, Captain_**

* * *

_Oyaji,_

_We did a preliminary test today, to see if Kudo could use me. He…well, for lack of a less disgusting way to put it, he sucked the reiatsu out of me, amplified it, and tried to use it on a dummy. The dummy exploded._

_ So I guess it works? I dunno. Seems risky to me, but then, we've really got no other choice, do we? People have already died because of this disease. So Kudo says we're gonna do a few more tests so that he can get it right, then go straight onto a live patient. There's not much time left to screw around._

_ I don't figure I have to say this, but tell the girls I'm doing alright. The work's not that hard right now, really. A lot of a captain's job is keeping the peace 'til they're called to battle. We're like attack dogs. People complain about the paperwork, but that's 'cuz they don't prioritize. That or my officers are taking it easy on me, since I'm new. Not sure. I guess we'll see. The old man wants me to stay onboard after things are over with, on a part-time basis._

_ Not sure what I think about that. I guess there're worse jobs I could be taking. It's not so bad here, really. And having the official backing of the Gotei 13 would definitely be…helpful. Next time I end up fighting for my damn life, at least I wouldn't have to worry about them treating me like a criminal._

_ Again._

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #3  
__Kurosaki Ichigo, Captain_**

* * *

_We did some preliminary tests on Kenpachi today. It's working. They had to take off his eyepatch a long time ago; I guess that's what gave Kudo the idea in the beginning. When he first started getting sick, it actually helped him. Or, at least, when they finally took it off since it was so dangerous, he got worse pretty much instantly. But now, using my reiatsu and Kudo's power, it looks like he's getting better._

_ He's conscious, at least. He can breathe on his own, and later on in the day, he was actually able to talk. When he heard from Unohana-san that Kudo and me were the ones who were helping him, he got this disgusted look on his face and said he'd rather die. But she said anger was a good sign; it meant he was stronger. We're going to keep going throughout the next few days and see how things go. We don't have much time, but we can't just overload them or they'll end up getting worse. Like that dummy._

_ It's a shame they didn't call for me sooner. Kudo says the only reason we actually stand a chance in holy hell is 'cuz of me. I don't know how true that is, but I'll tell you this: this spirit-chemotherapy crap is fucking exhausting. It's ridiculous how much reiatsu we're gonna need to pull this off. I guess that's why they need me. It's not 'cuz I've got so much power, like Zaraki; it's the stamina. Or, that's what they're telling me, anyway._

_ I really don't know. But like I was saying, people have died. Soi Fong's second died a little bit ago because they couldn't do anything for him. Maybe if I'd gotten here a bit earlier, we could've done something. I thought he was a bit of an idiot, but this place is full of idiots. They let me in, after all._

_ Idiot or not, he didn't deserve to die like this._

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #4  
__Kurosaki Ichigo, Captain_**

* * *

_Toushirou collapsed on the way out to training this morning. Pretty much everybody's been waiting for it to happen; all the captains are at risk. They got him into the infirmary pretty much instantly; they've gotten good at it, sad as that is._

_ I figured Rangiku-san would want us to try healing Toushirou right away. She's gotten real close to him, you know, and they've both had their fair share of visits to our place. I was all for it, and Kudo didn't much care who was on the table; he's excited that it works on anyone. Said it might be better to go with Toushirou, actually, since he was still pretty healthy. But she said no. She said we'd damn well better stick to helping Kenpachi. Said the only reason he wasn't dead yet was 'cuz he's too stupid to die. Can't argue with that. She also said that more delays might well override whatever progress we've been making. And we are. Kenpachi was actually able to stand up today. He fell back down as soon as he was on his feet, but I guess he's been bedridden for a long time now, so that's a hell of an improvement anyway._

_ Rangiku-san's been looking after Toushirou in the infirmary. They put their third-seat in charge of the division. Not sure what to make of that, but hey. Not my division, not my call. They probably know what they're doing. Would've thought he'd be better off if a nurse from the 4__th__ took over, but she won't have it. Ikkaku's vice-captain Momo's been helping her. That's the only person she'll even let in the room._

_ I'm kind of surprised they're as calm as they are. I'd've thought they'd be a lot more…you know, emotional, since it's Toushirou. But this is a military, after all. They've been here a hell of a lot longer than I have. If Rukia's taught me anything, it's that there's no place for chauvinism in Soul Society._

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #5  
__Kurosaki Ichigo, Captain_**

* * *

_ Kenpachi challenged me to duel._

_ Spine out of alignment._

_ Can't hold a pen straight._

_ Hands won't stop shaking._

_ Ready to write this using teeth._

_ Brain not working._

_ Too tired to think._

_ Cure working._

_ Thank God._

* * *

**_9__th__ Division Court – Civilian Update Report #6  
__Hisagi Shuuhei, Vice-Captain_**

* * *

_Kurosaki-dono,_

_ Kurosaki-taichou is resting. I write this in his stead._

_The 9__th__ Division has flourished under your son's leadership. Everyone is thoroughly pleased to have had a hero leading them in my absence. A few officers seemed disappointed when it was announced that I was well enough to return to my position. I had thought that Kurosaki-taichou was simply a strong sword-arm, but it turns out that he's quite a studious bookkeeper as well. I haven't seen this office so neat and orderly since your son's predecessor was using it._

_ I don't think anyone is as surprised as I am that things worked out so well. Thanks to Kurosaki-taichou working so closely with Kudo-taichou, the sickness is alleviating. We lost remarkably few to its effects, although everyone is going to have a hellish time getting caught up._

_ Yet again, your son has saved our necks. Without his help, Kudo-taichou wouldn't have been able to save more than a handful of us. It may be a bit late to be saying this, but he's exceeded every expectation we've ever had for him. We are all in his, and your, debt. If ever you need the assistance of the Gotei 13, you have but to ask._

_ Though Kurosaki-taichou hasn't yet taken up all the duties due his position, he has proven himself to be a thoroughly impressive candidate. He doesn't seem particularly interested in attending our academy to fill in the gaps, though. He will be returning home to the living world as soon as he recovers from the exertion, and as far as official records are concerned, his time as a captain is over. Perhaps you could convince him to return to us? My division would be ecstatic to welcome him officially._

_ It would be greatly appreciated if you could contact me directly with any update or decision._

_ Thank you again._

_ We owe our lives to the Kurosaki family._


	53. TLC

_**For those of you who will read this multiple times, I apologize. Feel free to ignore this if you've already seen it, and move on to the chapter.**_

_**Here in my neck of the woods, it is now the 9**__**th**__** day of February, in the year 2012. Ten years ago today, I came across Fanfiction-dot-Net. I proceeded to publish "Lonely, Broken Hero," the first story I wrote that ever felt complete. It was inspired by a song, written for the Square-Enix game "Chrono Trigger," and marked the beginning of a lifelong passion.**_

_**Since February 9**__**th**__**, 2002, I have had the honor of meeting some of the greatest people on earth. These people have given me 5,885 reviews, thousands of Favorites, and over 1.8 million hits across 40 projects. These people have supported me, cheered for me, informed me, criticized me, and helped me embark on some of the most memorable journeys of my life. I never would have made it without them.**_

_**To celebrate this illustrious anniversary, and to thank you for being the best audience an author could ever ask for, I have written extra chapters for each of my 8 ongoing projects. I present them to you now, and humble myself before you. Were it not for you, these stories never would have come into being, or lasted nearly as long as they have.**_

_**Thank you again. You all have changed my life.**_

_**Here's to another decade of adventure and exploration.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

* * *

"This feels creepily familiar."

"No talking," Matsumoto said sharply. "Doctor's orders, Taichou. Conserve your strength. Now, open wide." Hitsugaya's face screwed up in clear disdain before he rolled his eyes and opened his mouth. Matsumoto slipped a spoonful of soup between the young captain's lips. Hinamori sat nearby, hands resting in her lap, smiling as she watched them.

"Hanatarou-kun told me that Madarame-taichou is feeling better," Hinamori said. "He threw a tin cup at Kurosaki-taichou this morning. Thank goodness he agreed to help."

Matsumoto nodded. "I might have known it would take Kurosaki to help that stubble-ridden idiot prove himself useful." Her tone wasn't nearly as harsh as her words, and it was clear that her opinion of Kudo Hideaki had softened, at least a bit. That it was his treatment allowing her captain to stay conscious long enough to eat may have had something to do with it. Indeed, it seemed that Hitsugaya had succumbed to sickness at the perfect moment in the cure's development.

Nonetheless, he was weak. He could only walk short distances, and couldn't attend to his duties no matter how insistent he was that they let him try. "Sugimura can handle it," Matsumoto told him often enough for it to be a mantra. "He's been learning, same as I have. Truth told, he's better at it. Maybe I should step down and let _him _be your adjutant?"

Hitsugaya's only reply was to roll his eyes again.

Whenever Matsumoto was pulled away from her leader's side, Hinamori took over. "Madarame-taichou would be offended if I tried to help him," she said. "Yumichika-san says he can handle things until everything's back in order. He says I'm more useful here in the infirmary." Indeed, she was. Many people expressed surprise that she hadn't joined the Fourth Division, so tender was her care. When she wasn't helping Hitsugaya, she was tending to the others.

But if she tended to the others, she fell over backwards for Hitsugaya. They all knew that she was still taking any excuse to make up for previous conduct, under the impression that she had something to prove. No one bothered to tell her otherwise, least of all Hitsugaya himself. Matsumoto, too, kept her tongue still.

At some point in the afternoon, Kurosaki Ichigo stepped into Hitsugaya's sickroom. He looked positively mystifying in his captain's cloak. Where most captains wore the symbol of their office casually, even nonchalantly, Ichigo seemed to have taken a leaf out of Kuchiki Byakuya's book and wore it like a king's cape, as though it were the most formal of honors.

Yet his face was calm, even bored.

"Toushirou," he said from the doorway.

"Kurosaki," Hitsugaya replied.

"Looks like you're pretty comfortable," the teen said, smirking. "Thought I'd come and make things worse. How goes the recovery? Can you walk steady yet?"

"For a while," Hitsugaya said. "Not long enough to be significant, but…progress is being made."

"Works for me." Ichigo watched as Ash came bolting into the room and launched himself onto Hitsugaya's bed. "Got another visitor," he murmured.

The kitten crawled up onto Hitsugaya's chest, purring as it turned itself around and around, kneading the sheets in preparation for a nap. The leader of the Tenth Division grimaced, but said nothing. Sighing, Hitsugaya lay his head back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. "What's the point of pushing it off?" he muttered to himself. "It'll just climb right back up here."

"He wuvs his daddy," Matsumoto cooed, scratching behind the animal's ears. "He's worried. Aren't you, little one?"

"Kudo says we'll have one more treatment this week," Ichigo said, his tone turning serious, "then you're on your own. Should be fit 'n ready to go in a month'r so. Hey, while I gotcha cornered, there's something I've been wondering for a while."

Hitsugaya grunted.

"Old man's been talkin' about wanting me onboard. You know, indefinitely. Part-time for now, y'know, but…official. There ever been a case of a live person making captain before?"

Hitsugaya's brow furrowed. "I…don't know."

"No idea," Matsumoto said. "Not since I've been here."

Hinamori shook her head. "You're the first I've ever seen, Kurosaki-taichou."

"Huh." Ichigo scratched his head. "Interesting."

The atmosphere in the room turned awkward for a while, while Matsumoto continued to feed her captain, Ichigo stared off into space, and Hinamori hummed to herself, staring down at her hands as though she found them _fascinating._

An attendant entered the room eventually, breaking the awkward silence by addressing Ichigo: "Kurosaki-taichou. You have visitors waiting in your barracks, sir."

Ichigo chuckled. "All right, then." He waved dismissively. "Peace out, bitches."

Hinamori gave him a strange look, but Matsumoto grinned.

Hitsugaya closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Kurosaki Ichigo didn't like to think of himself as a cruel individual.

Came right down to it, he thought he was a pretty stand-up sort of person. He tried, right? He was loyal to his friends, he stood up for what he believed in, he made decent grades. Hell, he'd saved the damn world. All told, that was a pretty good record when you got right down to it. This wasn't bragging, it was just the truth.

He wasn't a bad person. He wasn't cruel, or mean-spirited, or anything like that.

Sure, sometimes he let anger get the best of him. Sometimes he let his frustration at the world show a bit too clearly. Sometimes he was pretty down on himself, and that wasn't healthy. When he thought of his mother, he usually got mopey and depressed until he reminded himself that she'd have smacked him upside the head for acting like that. And sure, maybe you could say he disrespected his father, what with the shouting and the berating and the senseless _beating. _But…everyone's got faults, right?

All this went through Ichigo's mind as he strolled nonchalantly through the halls of the Fourth Division's barracks, after picking up his guests at the Ninth's court and showing them around a while.

Yeah. He was a good guy.

But all the same, he couldn't help but crack a wide, sadistic, downright _evil _grin as he stepped up to the doorway of Captain Hitsugaya's room and waited for the fireworks to start.

Bright green eyes snapped open like mousetraps, and the boy captain went pale as the sheets wrapped tightly around his body when he heard a high-pitched, almost shrill voice cry out in the sterile silence of the hall:

_"Hitsugaya-niichan!"_

For the first time in a long time, Kurosaki Ichigo and Kurosaki Isshin agreed on something, as they both threw their heads back and laughed while Yuzu nearly tripped over herself in a mad dash for Hitsugaya's bedside.

* * *

_**You know I had to do it, right?**_

_**This is a somewhat familiar scene; I've detailed sickness before, and the fact that Matsumoto would be the one to care for her captain while he recovered. This time, I decided to mix things up a bit. Seemed fitting. I daresay this is a bit of a cliffhanger, but don't worry. We'll see where it goes next time, which shouldn't take too long to get out.**_

_**This doesn't necessarily mean that Ichigo will be joining the crew from now on. I'm just leaving my options open. He doesn't seem too…against the idea, though. Not sure I expected it to turn out that way, but there you go. Sometimes these characters surprise me.**_

_**I hope you enjoyed this installment, and that you'll join me for the next one.**_

_**Later, everyone.**_


	54. Quiet in the Corner

_**All this talk of disease has made me forget just what it was that started this project. A while back, I started "Paved with Good Intentions," a Yu-Gi-Oh story that was supposed to have followed this story's template as a one-shot collection. It eventually became much bigger than that, and ended up a traditional, sequential, cohesive plot. Such that I had to start another story, "Blue Eyes, Violet Eyes," to start afresh.**_

_** With various ongoing story arcs in this project, I think I've fallen into a similar trap, and forgotten what it means to write a one-shot collection. I've forgotten that the whole theory isn't to wait for the next idea, but to use **_**any **_**idea. And so, while this chapter does carry over certain things from the Decay arc, I feel like it's heading back into the right direction.**_

_** Let's get back to business, shall we?**_

* * *

He did not drink properly.

Or, suffice it to say that he _did _drink properly, and that was the problem. Like a proper little gentleman, a slender Lord at a proper breaking of fast with the fellows and the ladies of _means. _Though the others of his kind, dressed in the same uniforms, all sat at one communal table, he sat off in the corner, nursing a single mug of some _other _liquid.

Renji, and Ikkaku, and even Soi Fong wanted to drag Hitsugaya over with the rest of them and toast a _real _drink to the men and women they'd lost to decay; after all, he had been instrumental to keeping up morale. He was a beacon, a hero of the people. Ever the golden boy, the white dragon had proven his quality. Should he not be a part of their remembrance?

Matsumoto would not permit it. Though she drank fit to cauterize, not with a saucer but a _jug _to her name, whenever someone dared bring up the idea of bringing the _captain _of the Tenth over to the "big boys'" table and showing him what you were _supposed _to do in a tavern, she nixed it at once. Jovial as she always was when in her cups, you wouldn't have thought that Matsumoto Rangiku, of all people, would have been very threatening. But Matsumoto Rangiku, of all people, _was _very threatening. With the two captains, she was polite but steadfast; with Renji, she was outright hostile.

"Leave him," she said. "He wants to be alone."

"Then what's he _here _for?" Renji demanded. "Watering hole's no place for _solitude, _damn it! Shoulda stayed stuck up in his office if he wanted 'peace 'n quiet' or whatever the fuck."

"I don't care," Matsumoto replied icily. "If he wants to be here, and he wants to be alone, then I'll damn well make it so he can be both. I'll run the whole lot of these idiots out of here if he wants. I'll pay their tabs and buy phantom rounds for their empty chairs when they're gone, and keep the whole damn economy running myself, if I have to. Now _shut up _about my captain."

"Oh. O Captain, your Captain. Y'know, he belongs to a _lot_ of people, not just you. Got hundreds o' soldiers he's captain for."

Matsumoto nearly sent the Sixth-Division adjutant through a wall; as it was, there was a Renji-sized imprint there, and nobody said anything more about it.

The night passed, the patrons left. If this had been the living world, the proprietor would have ordered the stragglers out; but this was Soul Society, and this place was little more than a roof over which to spend half a fraction of eternity; there was no set schedule here, outside the walls of the military.

Hitsugaya continued to drink his solitary drink, green eyes staring into the wood-grain and visiting various haunts in his disquieted mind. His sword was not with him; he had elected _real _quiet in his mind tonight, without the cold whisperings of the dragon.

Whatever it was that snapped him out of reverie, it didn't visit him until long after what would have been midnight. He looked up, around, his vision unfocused. There was only the barkeep, snoring loudly in a back corner.

And Matsumoto, seated some tables away, watching him.

Hitsugaya blinked. "…Rangiku."

She stood up, adjusted her blade and its scabbard so that it sat right with her uniform, and glided over to him. She wasn't plastered, or at least did not seem so. Her face was slightly flushed, but her own eyes were much clearer than Hitsugaya thought his must be.

She sat down at his table, and regarded him silently.

He said, "What are we doing, Rangiku? What…what _is _this, that we do? Why did it take a pandemic _on top of _threat of war to make us work together? Why is there this terror…this certainty in me that says…everything you and I, and Hinamori, and the men and women who stand behind us; why am I so sure that everything we've worked for will fall apart, now that Kudo's found a cure? Now that the threat of a death in squalor isn't hanging over their heads?"

He continued in this vein, venting his doubts and fears as though they were unwieldy luggage, tossing them onto the table. His voice strengthened as his vehemence rose, and real anger lit his green eyes. All through this, Matsumoto did not say a word. She simply watched him, patiently, reverently, a sort of serenity settled about her like a blanket.

Eventually, the young captain's voice lost its strength, and anger was not enough to keep him awake. He was still tired, still recovering his strength, and could not stay his usual vigilant self for long. Matsumoto knew full well that her captain would sleep through the rest of the night, and likely the whole of the coming day; she knew that she, like he usually did, would be pulling an all-nighter just to keep up with the work to which he would be unable to attend.

Still she smiled. Still she waited.

When finally Hitsugaya ceased his manifesto, clenched his fists and slammed them onto the table, waking the barkeep with a start, she reached out a hand. She set it onto his right wrist, which was taut and thin and trembling.

She leaned over, kissed his cheek, and stood.

"Come with me, Taichou," she said.

She did not say another word, as they walked together toward home.

Neither did he.


	55. Willful Ignorance

_**Bleh. The semester's over, and usually that's supposed to mean I'm on vacation. Vacation is supposed to mean relaxation and rejuvenation. So why have I not been fully conscious since it started?**_

_**In any case, I have a new blog set up now, but it's not like the old one (which fell off and died a few months ago). This new blog, "The Cottage at the Edge of Forever," is a place for my original fiction. I post a new piece every weekday. So take a look, if you're so inclined, at ib-fantasy (dot) blogspot (dot) com. Also, if you want to keep up on what I'm doing creatively, might I suggest finding me on Facebook? Yes, yes, I'm caught up now. Look for the "Iced Blood" from Lodi, California. That's me. I post every update, fiction or otherwise, up on there.**_

_**With that said, I tried to go back to the older method of short little snapshots for this chapter. I feel like I've been saying that a lot lately, and maybe that's an indication that I'm not doing it right. But anyway, I hope that you enjoy this little glimpse of madness.**_

_**See you next time.**_

* * *

"Ah…Taichou? What are you doing?"

"Training."

"That isn't what it looks like you're doing. What kind of regimen involves balancing on your head?"

"Don't ask me. It wasn't my idea."

"Your face is red. I think you might want to stop."

"No. I have fifteen more minutes."

"…How long have you been upside down like that?"

"Five hours, forty-five minutes."

"How, exactly, are you keeping track?"

"That's part of it. I'm counting seconds. If you could stop talking, please; you're breaking my concentration."

"Oh! My apologies. Um…good luck, sir. Let me know how it works out."

"Fine."

"…Matsumoto-fukutaichou, there you are. Um…why is the captain balancing upside down in his office? He says he's training."

"He was talking to Kurosaki-taichou earlier this morning."

"So, it was _his _idea?"

"I'm sure it was a joke, but…well, he's surprisingly convincing when he wants to be."

"I've never known the captain to be much of a jokester. Not to mention, he didn't have the look of someone involved in a joke. He looked…rather grave."

"Oh, so did Kurosaki. He told Toushirou that this training method was a tried-and-true way to enhance one's sense of balance, passed down by his father. He said it would _undoubtedly _raise Toushirou's capabilities, and it was a simple exercise to do. He'd be a fool not to try it."

"But…six hours?"

"Any less, and the body won't recalibrate itself."

"…Of course. Kurosaki-taichou must be playing some kind of prank."

"Obviously, he is. I'm sure Toushirou knows that, too."

"So then…why is he doing it?"

"He's too proud to decline a challenge. He's not about to admit defeat. Not to mention…if it actually _does _amount to anything. Well, then, why not? I sincerely doubt he's fooled. Toushirou hasn't listened to a word out of Kurosaki-taichou's mouth ever since he first arrived here. But, on the off-chance he _does _believe this…well, I don't have the heart to tell him otherwise."

* * *

"You don't seem particularly…perturbed about the whole thing."

Hitsugaya didn't respond at once, choosing instead to study the wall for a while. "I'm not."

"Didn't you just say this morning that he played you for a fool?"

"I did." The young captain shrugged. "And he did. But that's not particularly important."

Matsumoto raised an eyebrow, wondering if perhaps her leader were growing more mature. She remembered a time, not so long ago, when being mocked like this would have sent him into hysterics. "Oh?"

Hitsugaya nodded, though he certainly didn't look pleased. "It's common practice to haze the newcomer, especially in an institution like ours." He actually chuckled. "This is the first time I can think of when the newcomer's actually done the hazing."

A suspicious look crossed Matsumoto's face. "…You're proud of him."

Hitsugaya blinked, then shrugged again.

"Maybe."


	56. You Deserve the Best That I Am

_**On the 8**__**th**__** of May, six years ago, I published the first chapter of this story. I had no reservations about what that meant, what it would mean, or where I would go with it. It was just a funny little idea I had, and the first step toward an ambition to write the story I'd been searching for ever since I started reading Bleach fanfiction.**_

_** When I published the 50**__**th**__** chapter of this story, more than five years later, I was fully prepared to write another 50. I had it in my head that this project of mine could, and possibly would, last forever. Sadly, I've come to realize that this is not the case.**_

_** I've told the story that I set out to tell. I've presented my vision of Hitsugaya Toushirou and Matsumoto Rangiku from every angle I can. Am I finished with Bleach fanfiction? I won't say that. It's recently come to my attention that the anime has ended, as of 366 episodes. It is an intention of mine to watch the entire series over again, and see how it's evolved from the first episode to the last. I might come up with something new as I do.**_

_** But if that is, indeed, the case, then it will come to you in the form of another project.**_

_** This story, about two people that I've come to love like family, has reached its end. I am immensely proud of the way that it's turned out, and it hurts to realize that I won't be working on it anymore. But sometimes, the story dictates how long it needs to be, regardless of the author's wishes.**_

_** Please enjoy this final installment, and know that your support has been invaluable to me over the past 6 years. I would never have made it without you. So take a bow; you're just as much a part of this story as I am.**_

_** Thank you so much.**_

* * *

He would wait until she left to go to bed, then stand sentinel over her to make sure her sleep was peaceful.

If Matsumoto had a nightmare, or her rest was otherwise compromised, Hitsugaya would kneel down in front of her cot like an acolyte in prayer, and whisper to her. Often, there were no words to his messages, no articulated missives, save one:

"I'm here."

Her soft mutterings would quiet, her restless shuffling would still, and he would smile. He was under no magnificent delusion that she actually _heard_ him, or that she was comforted by his presence even in sleep, but all the same it always _felt _like that was the case.

He would watch the shadows dance across the room, the moonlight flitting through the window, and feel at peace. He would watch her sleep, and his fatigue would vanish.

Hitsugaya Toushirou worked harder than many of his peers; he trained more often, and more intensely, than his fellow captains; he was more hands-on with his division than his fellow captains. He personally oversaw the drills in which his soldiers partook. He gave personal feedback; he sparred; he spoke to them, one-on-one, whether they were a centuries-long veteran or a fresh recruit straight out of the academy.

Much of the work that Hitsugaya took on was left to seated officers in other divisions. Some attributed this to his youth; spirits aged, and decayed, just like living people; though their lifespan (so to speak) was much, much longer—Yamamoto-soutaichou was the foremost testament to this; no one _really _knew how old _he_ was—it was still the ultimate destiny of every denizen of Soul Society to die, and to reintegrate into the cosmic song and dance that was existence. Hitsugaya was centuries upon centuries away from that fate. Surely, some said, this was the secret to his endurance.

Others, like Kyouraku, knew it wasn't nearly as simple as that; but even he didn't understand the truth.

The secret to Hitsugaya's endurance was…this.

Not Matsumoto; he wasn't that much of a cliché—or, it wasn't _just _Matsumoto.

It was this escape. The safety and security of knowing, if he ever had to, he could sit here. He could let the rest of the world disappear, and ensconce himself in…calm. The room was sparse, utterly without decoration. All there was, was that window; that cot; that woman. Some nights, when he sat here and watched her, she would sprawl out in a fundamentally unladylike fashion, bedsheet tangled around her midriff, head hanging halfway to the floor and her hair tumbling like a strawberry-blonde waterfall. He preferred these nights.

He didn't like the nights when he had to comfort her. It meant she was hurting.

But comfort he would; often he spoke nonsense, but sometimes he told stories. Sometimes, when a strange mood struck him, he would even sing.

Hitsugaya wondered if his incessant one-sided conversations were more for himself than for her; Matsumoto Rangiku was nothing if not talkative, and over the years she seemed to have conditioned him to _need _that—even if (when) it dissolved into white noise.

On nights that she was comfortable, he was able to relax; but on nights when she hurt, he was reminded of his mission. No matter which way it went, he came back to his position the next day with renewed vigor.

One night, she woke up. Her eyes slid open slowly, and she didn't look surprised to see him in the room with her. She lifted herself up onto one elbow and watched him. "Hello, stranger," she said. Then she got a suspicious look in her eyes and added, "You keep watching me sleep. Are you trying to seduce me?"

He didn't answer, except with the ghost of a smirk.

"You should be sleeping," she said after a while, and concern flashed across her face. "You're exhausted. I can see it in your eyes. What do you think you're doing, anyway, pushing yourself so hard all the time? And then you come in here and…what, stand guard?"

The smirk widened into a lopsided little grin, and he shrugged.

Matsumoto Rangiku pouted, but eventually decided not to press the issue further. Instead she sighed, picked herself up off of her cot, and settled down onto the floor beside her captain. She lay her head against his shoulder, and went back to sleep.

Hitsugaya Toushirou watched the moonlight dance listlessly through the window.

* * *

**END.**


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